


When your feet smell of angels but your life smells of brie

by pi_meson



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: 30 Day Cheesy Tropes Challenge, F/F, F/M, M/M, Many AUs, Tags to be added as chapters added
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 11:43:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 31
Words: 52,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2849672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pi_meson/pseuds/pi_meson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>30 day cheesy tropes challenge ficlets.<br/>They will all be WTNV based. I initially challenged myself to avoid Cecilos but... meh. and probably won't update daily, just when I feel like it. </p><p>Tags will update before I post draft chapters so there might be a mismatch between tags and content.</p><p>List can be found here (amongst other places):<br/>http://saintanick.tumblr.com/post/37135733342/30-day-cheesy-tropes-challenge</p><p>Smut alert: chapter 14 & 31<br/>Character death: chapter 30</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Perfect preparation prevents piss-poor performance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coffeeshop AU with Jake and Earl.
> 
> Jake has a very important job interview tomorrow and enlists the assistance of a just-going-off-duty barista called Earl to help him prepare.

Earl scowled but just for a moment. Of course he would clean at the end of the shift, that was what he was paid for. Pride in his work mattered.  
"Yeah, okay Josie, I got it covered."  
Josie smiled.  
"And you'll lock up properly? Yeah?"  
"Yeah, I'lll lock up... _mom!_ Seriously, go home Josie."  
Josie smiled as she threw a cloth at her favourite employee. The new scoutmaster, in need of a second income, was the best barista she had employed. It wouldn't last, of course, everyone with talent left sooner or later. Her white hair flicked and her black eyes flashed as she gave her final instructions.  
"Okay, stop serving in fifteen, start cleaning and gettemout in thirty. Cash in the safe, then go home, hun, early shift tomorrow."  
Earl nodded and smiled, Josie left.

The shop was almost empty and Earl started to clean the machinery. He noticed a figure by the till and walked over.  
"Sorry sir, we're closing."  
"I know. Please, if your machines are working, I need caffeine. I have a job interview tomorrow and I have to work on it. Plain black filter?"  
Earl smiled. "Sure, I can do that. To go?"  
"For here if you'll let me stay until you finish?"  
Earl filled a mug with coffee and handed it over, a brief finger-touch during exchange of cash jolted him awake. He looked into his customer's eyes, saw them flick to his name badge and smiled again. "Good luck tomorrow!"  
"Thanks, Earl."  
The man dropped some change into the tips jar and sat by the window, although it was already dark out. Earl watched him leaf through notes as he flushed steam through the frother. 

Ten minutes later Earl called over.  
"I'm closing the shutters now. You can stay a little longer if you like but you'll have to use the back entrance with me."  
The customer smiled and looked over at Earl.  
"Thanks, I'd like to do that if you're sure it's okay."  
Earl thought over what he had just said and coloured slightly. He kept his head down as he wiped over tables, and swept the floor, ending at the customer's place. He sat opposite. 

"What is the job?"  
"Personal assistant to Marcus Vansten. Have you heard of him?"  
"Everyone's heard of him! Wow. You got an interview? That's impressive, I heard he's really picky but pays well. What's the job description like?"  
The man flicked through his notes and handed a sheet of paper to Earl. It had one sentence in twelve point helvetica, centre justified: _The successful candidate is required to assist Mr Vansten personally._  
"Minimal, as you can see. I'm Jake."  
Jake offered a handshake. Earl accepted. He pointed to his name-badge and shrugged, making Jake smile.  
"I'm trying to guess what questions I might get asked. Got any ideas?"  
Earl rubbed his head. "Dunno, my interview for here was _Do you know how to clean?_ and I didn't need an interview for my job as scoutmaster, that just happened." 

"Oh." Jake looked disappointed for a moment then stared, grinning. "You're scoutmaster? That's a great job!"  
"Yeah, not well paid so I work here too. What was your last interview like?"  
Jake shuddered. "Urgh. It was also a PA position but for McDaniels Insurance. I don't think I would have fit in there at all. The questions were mostly about boring legal stuff. But I really want this job, you know?"  
Earl nodded. "You can bounce ideas off me if you like. There's no more coffee though."  
Jake clutched his hands to his face and then his heart. "No... you're cutting me off?"  
They both giggled.  
"Sounds like you've had enough already young man!"  
Jake grinned. "Probably. Look, this might be weird but can you kinda role-play Vansten and ask me stuff?"  
Earl raised his eyebrows. "I dunno, I mean, some of the things I've heard about him..." He saw the look of disappointment cloud Jake's face. "But I could try." 

"Okay... Umm... why do you want this job?"  
"Shit, Earl! Ease in gently?"  
Earl shrugged. "Will Vansten ease into you gently?"  
"Point taken. Okay, umm, I have a lot of relevant experience as a personal assistant and..."  
"NEXT!"  
"Earl! Jeez, way to wreck a guy's confidence!"  
Earl leaned over and looked Jake in the eyes. "Jake, do you really want this job? You gotta convince me you're the only person I want to employ. Talking about what you did for other employers isn't going to do it. That's all on your resumé and application letter, right?"  
Jake nodded, frowning.  
"Okay, so tell me what I don't know already. Tell me what makes you want to work for me, not some generic businessman, why me." 

Jake was silent.  
"Do you really want to work for Vansten?"  
"Yes!"  
"Why? Honestly, why?"  
"He pays more than anyone else. The hours are long, like _all_ the hours, but that's okay I have no family and no ties."  
"Then you should say that."  
"I can't tell an employer in it for the money! He'll think I'm... he might think I'm shallow."  
"Why not tell him? How do you think he got all his money in the first place? How do you think a potential employer will react if an interviewee _actually tells the goddamn truth_ for once, to their face?" 

Earl laughed at Jake's confusion. "Sorry, it's a scout thing. We don't lie."  
"What, never?"  
"Maybe to be tactful now and again, but never where it matters."  
"Oh."  
"Okay, next question. Why did you quit your last job?"  
"The boss caught his son and heir with his hand down my pants at the office winter party. We were all drunk. Since then I never drink with colleagues." Jake grinned as he noticed Earl's eyes flick to his crotch and back up. "Have I embarrassed you? You've gone red."  
"Sorry. I did say I wanted honesty. Maybe that's somewhere you need to use tact."  
Earl put his hands to his cheeks and felt the warmth there. 

"What duties do you think this job involves?"  
Jake frowned in silence.  
"I expect to be on hand at all times during office hours and no more than a few minutes away at all other times to assist with whatever you want assistance with. That could be anything from basic office work like filing and screening calls to planning large corporate events to more... personal matters."  
Earl leaned in. "Give me some examples of personal matters you could see yourself assisting me with."  
Jake looked straight at Earl. "I could help provide conversation if you are bored. I could recommend suitable literature for your tastes. If you like games I can play a range of games at an appropriately challenging level so you never know for sure whether I'm just letting you win. I could bring you coffee from the best coffeeshop in town then entertain you if you have trouble sleeping. I would... I would like you to kiss me."  


It was Jake's turn to feel rising heat. "I'm sorry, I have no idea why I said that. I better go."  
Jake gathered his papers up and apologised some more. Earl took his mug.  
"I really do need to close up properly to comply with city caffeine licensing laws. If we lose our caffeine licence I'll be looking for a job too. This way."  
Earl led Jake through the back of the shop, pausing to swap his apron for his jacket and dump the used mug in the sink. He ushered Jake ahead of him out of the door into the alley and locked up. Earl turned round expecting to see Jake disappear around the corner but he stood a short distance away with his back to Earl. Earl walked over.  
"That was unexpected, sorry I freaked a bit. I'm not used to that kind of attention. I mean..."  
Jake turned to look at Earl as he indicated the scars resulting from years of scouting activities.  
"I think you are one of the most interesting people I have ever met. I bet there's a great story for each of those scars." Jake lifted a hand close to Earl's face. "May I?"  
Earl nodded and Jake traced the line of the longest scar from Earl's forehead down the side of his eye to his jaw. Earl leaned forwards and kissed Jake lightly.  
"You should worry less about your interview. If you're the right person for the job you'll get it by being yourself. If you're not, you won't get it and sometime down the line you'll be glad of that."  
Jake smiled and kissed Earl's scar.  
"I like your reasoning even if I disagree with you. Will you take me home and help take my mind off it?"  
"I'd like that. Hey, I know this great little coffee shop where you can buy me breakfast!" 


	2. The best policy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Idol/Fan with Marcus/Jake/Earl
> 
> Jake goes to his job interview. It is not a comfortable experience.

Jake was nervous. Earl had certainly helped take his mind off the terror of the day and he had slept pretty well. Earl made him promise to call in at the coffee shop on his way home after the interview, just to let him know whether he got the job. Earl offered to help him drown his sorrows if he failed or celebrate if he succeeded. "Not a date," he had said with a shrug, "just... whatever." And Jake had smiled and nodded. 

Jake snapped his head up in response to his name being called. He stood and followed a smart young woman down a short corridor to the office at the end. It was a modern building, all chrome and glass and plastic like a 1970s vision of the future. The office was large, with a corner aspect overlooking two of the town's busiest streets.  
"Sit there." The woman pointed and Jake sat with his back to the door. The door clicked signaling the receptionist's exit. Jake looked round briefly and got up to see better out of the windows.  
"Aren't you supposed to be sitting there?"  
Jake jumped as the unexpected voice drawled at him.  
"Uh..." He thought about what Earl said the night before about honesty and the last minute advice to _imagine your enemy naked_. "I was told to sit there but I'd rather see what's happening. Do you want me to sit down again, sir?"  
"Whatever, I don't care. Why do you want to work for me?"  
Jake actually laughed. It sounded brittle to him. 

His stomach twisted and Jake silently thanked Earl for not allowing him to have much breakfast before opening up the coffee shop and shooing him out. Jake gripped the edge of the table and thought about his reply. He spoke quickly.  
"Mr Vansten, I have a few reasons. The first and most important to me at the moment is that you pay well for good service. I know I am good at what I do and if I work for you I will be rewarded appropriately. The second is..."  
Jake walked carefully to a seat and sat down, reddening slightly.  
"... I've been studying your business models since college and watching Vansten Industries gain market share almost everywhere. You are a real celebrity in my eyes. Uh, I admire..."  
"Yeah yeah, I don't need a starstruck idiot giving me business advice. I got plenty rich without you. Sure I pay well. What else?"  
Jake burned at this rebuff.  
"You're not afraid to say what you mean even if it makes you sound like a total dick, sir."  
Jake looked up, his brown eyes scowling at Vansten's amber. Vansten was frowning, but did not look angry.  
"Whatever. I don't pay for anything less than the best service you can give. I get value for money." 

"Why did you leave your last position?"  
"I felt that I was not sufficiently stimulated there, sir."  
"I heard you fucked the boss's son."  
Jake's eyebrows shot up and he cleared his throat. He looked away, waiting for his voice to promise not to crack and the flame in his cheeks to cool.  
"I was indiscreet and I have learned from the experience."  
"Oh really?"  
"I learned not to fuck at work"  
"Heh." 

Jake stared at his knee for a moment, wishing Vansten was not sitting between him and the door. His stomach burbled and his mouth dried. Vansten waited and watched him, studied his reactions until he raised his head again.  
"So what can you do for me?"  
Jake thought about the answers he had rehearsed with Earl before Earl made him stop, made him relax with gentle, insistent hands and a delightfully hot mouth.  
"Honestly, sir? I rehearsed answers to that half the night but I think I've blown my chances anyway so I may as well not bother with all the hypothetical situations we thought up. If you're buying my services as your personal assistant then I will do whatever you goddamn tell me to do as long as it doesn't break any personal moral code I may possess."  
" _We_ thought up? I thought you had no strings."  
Jake shrugged. "I picked up my barista last night. He's not attached, at least not to me."  
"Is he hot?"  
"He's interesting. Works at Josie's, corner of..."  
"Whatever. I don't go there. Would you fuck me if I told you to?"  
"You're not my type, sir. Until this morning I thought you might be, but no." 

Marcus watched the nervous young man for a few minutes. He could see the desire to run, see the conflict as he chose whether or not to prattle out prepared answers. He saw the point at which the boy, Jake was it?, realised he had nothing left to lose and showed who he became when cornered. Marcus picked up his phone and spoke one word.  
Another tense minute passed before Marcus stood and motioned for Jake to stand too. "I'll take you back to the waiting room. You can stay or you can go home or whatever. Totally up to you if you want to work for me"  
Jake followed Marcus back along the ugly corridor. He bit his lip and shook his head to keep from sinking. When they arrived at the waiting room, it was deserted apart from the receptionist behind the desk.  
"Anything you want to ask me? Mhairi has your contract ready."  
Jake shrugged. "Want me to bring you the best coffee in town, sir?"  
"Heh. Sure, bring coffee at eleven. And get a decent suit, I don't want to look at that all day, it's nasty. Unless you'd rather..." Marcus indicated his own mostly nude form. Jake shuddered and shook his head. Marcus sighed. "I guess we can work on that. I don't shake hands or touch or whatever. And in case you're worried, you're not my type either."  
Marcus turned and walked back to his office, smiling at his lie to try to put the beautiful boy at ease. 

For the next hour Jake read through his contract, got measured up, handed his apartment keys over to Mhairi the receptionist to have his stuff moved to his new home and finally went out to get coffee. He almost ran to the coffee shop and burst in, exasperated by the length of the queue. He waited in line, looking around and rocking on his feet.  
"You order sir? Oh, hi! Back early? Was it bad?"  
"Got the job! It was horrible. But you really helped, so thank you. He wants coffee."  
"And this is a coffee shop. Look, it's busy, um, filter? something from the not-really-coffee menu?"  
"I have no idea what kind of coffee he likes."  
"Okay, plain filter. Can't go wrong. I'll give you Columbian to go, smoother than the Kenyan we have right now. See you later?"  
Jake shrugged. "Like I said, I start now. My time is not my own any more."  
Earl smiled. "Well, it's what you wanted. Your ass is his twenty-four-seven. Congratulations!" 


	3. Write About Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon love letter with ? and Mayor Cardinal.

The intern sighed and stared at the blank paper in front of her. _Draft then neat,_ she thought, _like you were taught in high school but never bothered doing. Just write it all down and sort it out later._ She picked up her carefully trimmed straw and sachet of barbecue sauce and began to scratch sticky sweet words onto the paper. 

Dear Mayor Cardinal,  
 _Ugh, so formal, she won't want to read that._

Dear Dana,  
 _Still not right, too cold._

My dear sweet Dana,  
 _Yes!_

You probably don't remember me, you lead such a busy life now. We were companions for a while, friends even, but I never got the chance to tell you of the way I feel about you.  
 _Shit shit shit I'm actually writing this stuff down. Oh glowing cloud I need to walk around for a while to calm down!_

The first time we met, you were so distant, but friendly too in an offhand way, like you had too much to think about and I showed up to interrupt. I got that, I'm not important to you. You are the intern that everyone talked about, still talks about. Not only did you live but fuck me, look at all the things you did! I mean, girl, TWO FUCKING ARMIES!!!!  
 _Okay maybe not. It's supposed to express love and admiration, not freak-out fangirling. Get a grip._

I was so pleased when you were elected Mayor! What an achievement! You talked at first about new policies and being open to new ideas, opening up the dog park and other forbidden areas and we were all, I was so proud to have met you, spent time with you, helped you.  
 _don't cry don't cry don't cry DAMMIT stop crying!_

Dana my love, I am no stranger to danger, I have died so often it's not even a conversation starter any more and I can visit my own grave in the break room if I want. It's nice to sit between the monuments and have coffee quietly until I get angry. You know what it is like as an intern, the constant vigilance and struggle to survive for the hope of getting enough college credits to graduate eventually...  
 _Oh now that's just whiny. Cut that out._

Dana, I worry about you. I don't know what has happened to the Dana I loved in the desert and I miss you. I miss the way you cared for others, the way you knew your own mind, your strength and certainty. Now we catch glimpses of you in your cerulean cape, surrounded by the City Council and I wonder if you are even aware that you are gone.  
 _Ugh, too much? Will she get to see this?_

The intern crumpled up her paper and threw it in the secure disposal bin where it caught fire of its own accord. She sat, head in hands and eyes closed for a few minutes then reached for a fresh sheet of paper and, checking around carefully for witnesses, a real pen. 

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

My dear friend, Dana, 

Do you remember me from our shared experiences in the otherworldly desert hellscape? You and I and John Peters you know the farmer? And that weird little science fellow. Do you remember how you freed us all, except that weird science fellow, and brought two armies to liberate our town? Do you remember the Dana you were then? 

I wonder and I worry. Dana, my actions may not have been clear and I never had courage to tell you that I loved you then and longed to be able to be a friend after our return. I dreamed of coffee dates and hand-holding walks where we would talk over what happened to us until it became normal and dull, stolen kisses under the trees in the park, movie nights with take-out and make-out. 

In the desert there were always more important things to discuss and I could not allow personal matters to distract you from your task of leading the campaign to free us all. Except that funny little science guy, he's still there. He's probably still talking about that umbrella too. It was pretty cool. 

Sorry, that's not the purpose of my letter. Dana, what has happened to you? Where is your passion for changing this town, improving our lives? Why is the dog park still closed when you said you wanted to open it? Dana, my force for good, where have you gone? Is your spirit back in that desert leaving only a shell clad in a cerulean cape and ivory rings to be steered by the City Council? 

My beloved Dana, I wish I could honestly call you that but I know you are not mine and I am not sure that you are still Dana. If there is any shred of memory in your being of who you were in the desert and your passionate desire to do right, I beg you to show it. Show Night Vale that you are still fighting for us all. We need you. 

I need you. 

With all my heart, from my aorta to my pulmonary vein and everything my blood passes between,  
x 

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

The intern addressed the envelope "Mayor Cardinal, Personal" and slipped out. She kept to the shadows as she approached the Mayoral residence and brought the letter out of her pocket. She dropped it into the letterbox and walked away. Behind her, unseen, the bottom of the mailbox flipped open and still-smouldering ashes fluttered to the ground. 


	4. Size doesn't matter.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angel/Demon AU with Erika/Josie
> 
> Josie is a demon, looking after Night Vale with the assistance of the angels. It's an odd arrangement that mostly works for them.
> 
> So what happens when a new demon moves in?

Josie's ebony eyes flashed in deep contrast with her snow hair. She regarded the tall figure blocking her path with disdain.  
"I may be shorter than ya, but yer still below me. Move."  
The tall figure shook out its feathers and stepped aside, falling in behind Josie as she marched out of her house.  
"Don't need no babysitter. Ain't been a babby since..."  
She walked faster, enough that her taller companion changed its gait to a loping trot.  
She pulled up short outside a house in complete darkness. Light from the street faded out and left a bubble of night around this house. Josie bit her lip and set her jaw. She walked into the unnatural night, never admitting how comforted she was by the presence that laid a clawed hand on her shoulder just once, gently. The figure stepped closer to Josie and ruffled its raven feathers again.  
"Steady now, we don't know what we got yet."  
Josie entered the house. The winged creature behind her waited at the stoop. Josie turned to it and sighed.  
"Really? You're afraid of the dark?" 

The angel hung back as Josie tutted at it and disappeared from view, rolled a few of its eyes and stepped into the darkness after her. It caught up and shadowed the little old woman as she passed from room to room.  
"I told ya before, Erika, if yer comin' with, mek yersel useful. Search upstair an' holler when ye find it."  
The angel hummed quietly and left Josie's side. She sighed and stretched and searched some more. Her head turned in response to a clatter from the stairs.  
"Erika?"  
Josie went into the hallway and looked at the staircase with coal dark eyes adapted for demonic activity. Erika the angel lay face down.  
"Did ya trip?"  
Erika pushed itself up quickly and shook out its wings. Josie hid a smile.  
"Erika, did ya trip over yer own wings?" 

There was nothing downstairs. Josie kept Erika with her as she searched upstairs and finally found a hatch into the attic. Josie gestured at Erika and Erika reached up and clicked it open then lifted Josie up to look inside.  
"Bingo!" Josie whispered.  
Erika brought Josie down again and kissed her forehead, exchanging visions of plans and ideas. Josie shook her head.  
"No, not you. Too risky, I'll do this. Push me up again and get help."  
Erika hoisted Josie up onto their shoulders so that she fit through the gap in the ceiling and Josie climbed into the attic. The other demon saw her and laughed. 

"Hey old woman, I claimed this house, you must leave."  
The resident demon waved a tentacle in Josie's direction. Josie ducked as, whip-like, it snapped out a sharp point where her head had been.  
"Rude! No way t' treat a guest. That's how demons like us get a bad name. Comin' here, killin' a perfectly reasonable fam'ly for the sake of... what? A spidery old attic?"  
"Josie my darling! I didn't recognise you, no offence intended. I needed the _contents_ of the spidery old attic."  
Even the diminutive figure of Josie had to crouch in the attic. She made her way towards the interloping demon.  
"So whatcha get?"  
The demon flexed two more tentacles and opened a plastic snap-lock storage box.  
"These people were philistines. Really. This should be stored wrapped in velvet, cushioned in satin and locked in a studded wooden chest with a key yea big." The tentacles held themselves eight inches apart. "Not in a fucking glorified Tupperware tub!" 

Josie nodded. "Their aesthetic stinks, but did ya have ta slaughter them?"  
The other demon blinked at her and quivered its tentacles.  
"Josie, have you any idea how long I spent feeding this family with dreams to get the invitation to manifest here? The parents were impossible. I have never seen such a pair of closed minds in my entire existence. I had a good poke around too, not just a casual brush across the surface. Take mummy dearest there," the largest tentacle pointed at the far corner where a woman lay slumped with her head at an unusual angle. "Under all that tax law and unwanted lifestyle advice and a few secret grandma's recipes that were actually store-bought lasagne with extra cheese, there was nothing. Not. A. Thing. No imagination to work with. Can you imagine that?" Josie shuddered, the demon laughed. "Ha! She couldn't!"  
"I get it, ya needed someb'dy with a bit a' imagination t' let ya in. What about the rest of them?"  
"Oh." The demon shook out its tentacles again and shifted its weight a bit, rocking the box it perched on. "The dad was okay I guess, I had a good delve into his mind. Nice range of fantasies going on, bit... nothing I could really, um, insert myself into to talk to him. No, his dreams were... quite particular. Funny, tentacles are usually a help for that sort of thing. How do you cope looking like a sweet little old lady full time? Except not sweet?"  
"I got my ways. So ya killed dad? 'Cause ya didn't like his fantasies?"  
"It seems harsh when you put it like that. But yes, that's what I did. He went out that way into the yard." Tentacles pointed up at the skylight in the roof.  
"So, I checked and the little boy's at school safe and well." Josie settled back. "How did ya get in?" 

"He would have been a route if he had been a little older. I had a look in his mind and if I wanted to manifest as a six-year-old's vision of a dinosaur I could have. But..."  
"What? What am I missing?"  
"There was a girl here too. This is her room. When I found her I couldn't believe my luck! Such a wild imagination. Have you seen what I have here? Look!"  
Josie admired as the demon stretched out five tentacles, all different, clicked the talons on three eagle-feet, swished a scaly, ridged tail and turned its head through one-eighty degrees to show off a backward facing set of features with a hooked beak and a cluster of pinpoint eyes.  
"She must have seen so many pictures of animals that she didn't know where one finished and the next began! I inhabited her dreams for weeks, helping her form me, asking nicely for a mouth capable of humanish speech, paying compliments and showing her how to draw out just the right bloodstone circle. She wasn't very vocal so teaching her the accompanying chant was a long, painful process. But the girl done good and here I am! She's in here too, quite happy I promise. It was her idea about dad and the window."  
"What? The parents kept a child up here in the attic an' dad..."  
"Apparently it was because of an argument over ice cream. She's part of me so I felt very strongly about it at the time."  
"Oh." 

"Whatcha gonna do with that thing?"  
Josie pointed at the plastic tub.  
"It's a piece of the original bloodstone meteorite that crashed down here. Not one of those diluted chunks made with the tiniest chip and a lot of ordinary haematite, or worse, concrete. Did you know there's a factory makes concrete bloodstones? Shameful what people allow. Trust humans with something precious and look what happens. Defile everything they touch and then call US demons. I ask you..."  
"Aye I get it, but what are ya plannin' on doin' wi' it? Now it's yours?"  
The demon grinned and quivered.  
"Josie my lovely, this town is mine. With this I can clear out all the humans who lack the necessary mental strength to survive being... inhabited. We can have a proper home, all the darkness we need and plenty of chanting, we can gather up all those awful travesties they call bloodstones and extract the raw mineral we crave and... What?"  
Josie was laughing and wiping her eyes.  
"Oh you precious moron. You think you're the first to try to steal my town out from under my nose?" 

The demon was fast, but Josie's bird-like frame was nimble and she dropped through the hatch before the tentacles whipped into the space she had occupied less than a second ago. Josie darted downstairs and out of the house to take her place with the group of angels who gathered in a circle around the building.  
"Erika, NOW!"  
They all joined hands. In front of each angel, and in the space reserved for Josie, lay an ebony box, open to reveal the tiniest specks of bloodstone. As the angels and Josie chanted louder, the darkness around the house receded and with a sound like a distant explosion it was gone.  
The house looked normal. Josie instructed three of the angels to search the house and garden, collect up the bloodstone fragments and secure the chunk of meteorite. She sent the others to go check quietly on those she called the _dispossessed,_ all the other demons living quiet lives incognito amongst the human population of Night Vale. A roll call of demons, some of whom had no idea they were not human. 

One in particular concerned her. A man who had been possessed when he was a teenager but had no memory of it. Something had gone wrong and both demon and human thought they had died. The boy and his passenger both lived but altered somehow, each mostly unaware of the other. The demon gave the boy incredible visions and an occasional crisis of existence and identity. The boy, a man now for decades she corrected herself although they all looked like youths to her years, gave the demon a beautiful voice for its visions and an imagination that nourished it daily. 

Josie went home.  
"Erika? What's the damage this time?"  
The black-feathered angel glided over.  
"Two human adults killed outright. One boy taken in by an uncle. The girl is in hospital, she won't stop crying and asking for her _best friend._ We think they loved each other. The rest of the demons are all accounted for."  
Josie sighed. "That's rough about the lass. Bloodstone meteorite secured?"  
"Yes Josie."  
"Thanks Erika.  
"Josie?"  
"Uh huh?" Erika examined the black void of Josie's pupils, saw the darkness and the occasional sparkle like starlight within.  
"So it is true that bloodstone size doesn't matter." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm REALLY sorry for the Tumblr meme reference. I couldn't stop myself.


	5. Call Me Names

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bartender AU with Jake and Earl.
> 
> Jake has a night off, the first in months. He meets up with old friends and encounters someone he doesn't expect to see.
> 
>  
> 
> Title from Joan Armatrading - (I Love it When You) Call Me Names

It was a rare night off for Jake. His new job kept him busy all hours, but he consoled himself that the salary was enough compensation. He had a suite of rooms in Marcus Vansten's spacious mansion, a clothing budget he was expected to spend and the latest phone and tablet for keeping up with his boss's affairs. He smiled at the thought. He used that word deliberately.  
But tonight was his and he was going out. If he stayed in, Vansten would call him for some trivial matter and he would go running to assist. Personal assistant meant exactly that. He changed into a casual suit, picked up two ties and discarded both, instead opening his second shirt button and admiring his look in the mirror. He placed his tablet and phone on the worktop in the tiny galley kitchen and rummaged around in the shoebox from the shelf in his closet for his old phone. Vansten didn't have this number. He turned it on, waited for it to pick up a signal and checked his messages.  
 _Hey stranger! Moonlite 8.30 for 9 then bar, hope 2 c u_

Jake just made it to the Moonlite. His friends were there. They swapped stories about mutual acquaintances and bitched about their jobs.  
"Hey Jakey! We were starting to think you'd left town. New job keeping you busy?"  
"Hey Chrissie, Hell yes. I've not had a day off since I started. Four fucking months!"  
"Six."  
"What? No!"  
"Six months, dude."  
"Fuck me!"  
"Nah, we all thought your boss was doing that." 

Jake spluttered and sprayed coffee at the empty seat in front of him. He sat back coughing as his friends laughed.  
"No way! No... Just, no. Okay?"  
"Ah, c'mon, you must have heard the stories?"  
"Yeah, _rumours,_ and they do NOT involve me. I do NOT sleep with my boss."  
"But if he had a son..."  
"You," Jake pointed, "can fuck right off."  
The group giggled a bit more at Jake's expense until he ended it with an admission.  
"Vansten's not really my type. I'd rather have that hot, rugged barista at Josie's. Dammit, why couldn't we have met up _there?_ " 

The friends moved on to their first bar. Jake sipped at his beer and watched his friends down theirs. He wondered if he should order the next pitcher, check out what was on tap and get something nicer. He wondered what Marcus would think of this place, imagined ordering wine and seeing the bartender scratch his head, or his ass, in confusion.  
"Hey guys, can I choose the next place? I'm buying?"  
That raised a cheer and the others knocked back their drinks. Jake slipped his onto the table behind him and they tumbled out into the night air. 

Jake led them to one of Marcus's lesser known haunts. The doorman looked over Jake's shoulder, raised an eyebrow and Jake shrugged.  
"Just for a while, if you want we'll go before you get real busy."  
"Mr Vansten coming tonight?"  
"Not as far as I know. It's not in his diary."  
"Okay, it's a quiet night. I just needed to warn the crew if Mr Vansten was dropping by. We hate unexpected visits. He let you out of his sight?"  
Jake ushered his friends into the bar and they bagged the last booth. Chrissie spoke up.  
"Great place, Jakey! Hey can we stay here?"  
Jake shrugged and grinned.  
"Sure, until they throw us out for not being rich enough to be allowed to make this much noise. I'll be back with booze."  
That earned him another cheer. 

Jake reached the bar and looked along it to see where the barman was. Just his luck, the server was down the other end. He'd have to go down and push in or shout to get served. The swing door behind the bar opened and another barman arrived in duty, looked up and down the bar and went straight to Jake.  
"Good evening sir, what can I getcha?"  
"Earl!"  
"Hey, Jake!" Earl shook his head slowly. "You never even called..."  
Jake choked on his drink order. "Uh... I mean sorry but I thought..."  
Earl burst out laughing.  
"Oh the look on your face is priceless. Drink order?"  
Jake almost melted in relief. He placed an order for two bottles of Californian Merlot, five glasses and some snacks. Earl told him to go sit with his friends and he'd bring their order to them. 

The table fell silent as Earl delivered their order, opened both bottles with two soft _pops_ and asked Jake if he would like to taste the wine.  
"It'll be fine, just leave it here. Thanks."  
"No problem. Wave if you need anything."  
Jake's friends looked at each other and giggled.  
"Now there's a face you don't expect to see offering a wine tasting. A _glassing_ rather than a glass."  
Jake frowned. "What do you mean, Jules?"  
"Well, he's kinda... rough looking. Not what you expect in a place like this."  
Chrissie added, "maybe he stands in as bouncer if someone needs scaring away."  
"Guys, shut up. Have some wine and let's talk shit." 

Jake was thankful the conversation moved on quickly to other topics. They discussed the latest recruits to the Sheriff's Secret Police very quietly, hushed tones and sibilants drawing attention to themselves. They talked loudly about mutual friends who could not make it that evening and speculated on the reasons for their absences.  
Jules giggled, halfway down his third glass. "Hey, game! What would each of us have given as an excuse and what would we actually have been doing if we bailed tonight?"  
The friends sniggered and agreed to play. Dani tapped a glass and Jake waved at the bar.  
"Oh better game," suggested Chrissie. "Same as Jules said but we make up each other's excuses!"  
Earl arrived by Jake's side and gently laid a hand on his shoulder. "Same again, sir?"  
Jake waved an empty bottle at the group and waggled an eyebrow before turning to Earl.  
"Yeah, I guess so. How are you? Not working at Josie's any more?"  
"I'm good, no, the hours didn't fit with my proper job. How..."  
"HEY JAKEY!," Jake cringed. "Stop hitting on the ugly barkeep and let him do his job!" 

Jake's face burned. He started to rise but Earl's hand, still on his shoulder, held him. Earl smiled.  
"Right away, sir."  
Jake turned on his friend. "You fucking asshole!"  
"Oooh touched a nerve there!"  
"Shut the fuck up."  
"Guys, c'mon." Jules interrupted. "Sure Sam's an asshole sometimes but Jake, _really?_ Gonna start something over a stupid comment? WANNA PLAYA GAME!"  
"Oh me first, I gotta good one." It was Chrissie. "I pick YOU!" Chrissie pointed at Jake. "Jake would have blown us ALL... off... because he was FUCKING HIS BOSS and his excuse would have been," Chrissie paused and produced an impersonation of Jake's voice, "Sorry Guys, something came up, I think it's my boss's dick in my ass."  
Four of the friends laughed. Jake rolled his eyes although his face burned and he shook his head. Two bottles of wine and five fresh glasses arrived on the table. Earl caught Jake's eye and grinned. Jake sank his face into his hands but peeked out sideways at Earl and shrugged. 

Later, on the next round when Jake was considering ordering cabs for everyone and Earl wondered how to phrase _no more, you're all wasted,_ Jake walked to the bar. Earl was busy stacking glasses, discarding those with lipstick imprints. He saw Jake in the mirror behind the bar, sitting on a bar stool, watching him work. He smiled at the reflection and continued stacking and cleaning.  
"Earl?"  
"Hey, Jake."  
"Umm, those people..."  
"Your friends?"  
"They used to be. Not so sure now."  
"Uh-huh."  
"What time you get off?" 

Earl leaned across the bar to talk with Jake.  
"You been drinking. A lot."  
"Them, not me."  
"You're obnoxious."  
"Them, not... well okay I can be."  
"You're fucking Marcus Vansten."  
"No I absolutely am not."  
Earl watched Jake's face for a moment.  
"I'll make you coffee. Will you still be awake at two?" 

Jake called cabs for his friends, waved them goodbye and dropped his old phone down a drain. He returned to the bar, used his Vansten staff pass to get up to the office and sat quietly with coffee. He woke because Earl shook him.  
"Come on, I'll take you home with me."  
"Uh? Mmm. Please do that, I live with... I'm awake, just tired. First night off in..."  
"Six months. Yeah. I know how intense he can get."  
"Oh?"  
"And you're not sleeping with him?"  
"No! No way. He's my _boss_ and I'm not that kind of guy!" 

Earl's place was small and tidy with bare walls and plain fabrics. Jake grinned.  
"It's very _you._ I like it."  
"Come on, need a shower? I do."  
Jake heard the invitation in Earl's voice and nodded. They shrugged out of their clothes, showered, and Earl carried Jake to bed, pausing only to ask if eight was okay for the alarm. Earl was every bit as distracting as Jake remembered.

Next morning, Jake woke to a quiet apartment and a note on his chest.  
 _Good morning, Jake! Had to go out, scout stuff. Help yourself to coffee and breakfast. If you have time to see me again my number is written on your leg, but next time please remember my name when you come._  
 _See you maybe, Earl_  
Jake slapped his hands over his face at the shameful memory of the early hours when, in the midst of a fantasy fuelled by alcohol and libido, he had called out a name.  
He wished it had been any name but _Marcus!_


	6. You spin me right round baby right round

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spin the bottle, with scientists and radio station interns.
> 
> Carlos agrees to let the team have a party in the lab. One of them invites the interns from the local radio station. Someone thinks "spin the bottle" is a really good idea but Carlos is not so sure.

They all knew party games were dumb. The science team had something to celebrate, six months in and their interim funding had just been confirmed and Professor Carlos said they could have a small reception in the lab with some wine and nibbles as long as they cleared up thoroughly before, to avoid contaminating their beverages, and after, to avoid spoiling their science. Prof Carlos even bought the wine.  
All six scientists had gathered around a clean workbench at the end of the day. Although the Prof's usual stance was that science never sleeps, he agreed that just for this weekend the nightshift could be cancelled and they could lock the lab doors at six on Friday. They had the whole weekend off. 

Dave brought clean beakers from the lab dishwasher.  
"Hey, these were new so they should be safe enough. Which ditzy prof didn't get glasses?"  
Carlos waved a hand in the air.  
"Yep, that one. Ell, wanna pour?"  
Rochelle emptied a bottle of Pinot Grigio into three beakers than reached for a second bottle.  
"Steady on, nobody wants to be _drunk in charge of a vacuum pump,_ remember last time?"  
Ell laughed, Carlos grinned.  
"Well, Ell, you gonna tell that story?" 

The scientists joked and laughed and relaxed as the third bottle and fourth found their way into beakers and thence into scientists. Dave jumped and cheered when someone outside banged on the door then the window.  
"Hey, I invited a few people. Hope that's okay, I said they should bring something because this wasn't really a party. Prof?"  
"They're here now, I can't say no without looking like the resident grumpy old man. You look after them and get them out if they touch anything, okay?"  
Dave grinned as he rose to unlock the outer door. "I cleaned some extra beakers."  
Carlos called after him, "Who did you invite?"  
Dave winked at Rochelle.  
"Just the local radio staff."  
Rochelle took one look at Carlos and burst out laughing.

Carlos rolled his eyes and made a face at Rochelle as the last intern sat on a lab stool and accepted a beaker of wine, sniffing at it carefully and dipping the end of a finger in before daring to drink. Dave was jubilant.  
"I guess we got enough people here for a party now. Hey, did you lot bring the _Weather_ compilation CD you promised me?"  
A intern rummaged in a bag and produced a CD. Dave put it in his laptop and plugged in the lab speakers. Good music blared and Dave danced back to his seat..  
"Oooh, empty bottle! Hey I know a game..." Ell groaned as Dave giggled and Carlos frowned.  
"Dave, Intern what'syername, we are all adults here. Party games have no place amongst..."  
Carlos was shouted down by a chorus of _Spin... The... Bottle!_  
Ell rolled her eyes at Carlos and tried to back away.  
"Hey, we can leave that to you youngsters, right? Don't want us oldies cramping your style, eh?" 

Nobody knew who insisted that Rochelle and Carlos had to stay and play but Rochelle blamed it on Dave and someone called Chardonnay. After the second round, which ended with a quick peck between two interns, the window rattled again and the door opened to admit another half-invited guest.  
"Oooh, spin the bottle. Umm, are we all still in high school or is this some kind of nightmare?"  
Dave laughed. "Hey Cecil, glad you made it. Sit out if you want, or have a beaker of wine and join in."  
Cecil considered his options for a moment, accepted a beaker of wine and sat on a lab stool separate from the rowdy group. Carlos left his place and joined him as the intern spun the bottle.  
"I hate party games. I calculated that I only had a nine percent chance of getting picked, but that is still too high. I don't want to be obliged by the effects of alcohol and social convention to kiss someone."  
Cecil leaned back on both elbows on the bench and examined the ceiling stains and scorch marks. "Yeah. I don't get it either. I mean, if you want to kiss someone, the correct procedure is to submit the _Crush (Unrequited)_ forms to City Hall, drop obvious hints and flirt in a way that everybody sees except the object of your affections. Ri-i-ight? You do have a licence for party games that might end with inappropriate physical contact, don't you?" 

Carlos smiled as Dave spun the bottle and it pointed at Rochelle. She demanded a re-spin, twice, but the result was identical and they kissed to the raucous delight of the rest of the scientists. Carlos wondered aloud to Cecil how long Dave had spent practising his spin. Cecil replied after a moment.  
"It must be nice to be in love with someone who loves you back. Uh, do you have anyone? In your busy life?"  
Carlos frowned. "I don't have time. I have the team to look after, set an example, you know."  
"Oh." Cecil studied the ceiling some more. "So there's no-one?"  
"I have science. It's simpler that way."

"Oh."  
"Yeah."  
"That sounds, I dunno, that sounds kinda lonely."  
"Yeah? A scientist gets used to working alone. Self-reliant."  
"Oh."  
"Yeah."  
"Was there someone? Before?"  
Carlos slipped off his lab stool and retrieved the empty wine bottle.  
"Okay guys, I'm confiscating this. You're all too inebriated to be allowed to stay in the lab. Want me to call cabs or are you going to the bar?" 

Rochelle and Dave left in a cab. The younger scientists and the interns who thought they looked old enough went to the bar across the street. Cecil helped Carlos clear up, stacking beakers in the dishwasher.  
"I can make coffee if you want?'  
"Yes, please."  
Carlos busied himself with the coffee filter machine.  
"You got anyone?"  
"What? Oh, um, no. I thought... maybe..."  
"Hmm?"  
"Nothing." 

On Monday morning, the lab opened at eight. Carlos was early. Rochelle and Dave were late.  
"Hey Carlos, good weekend?"  
"Yeah!"  
"Did you come to work?"  
"Yeah. I got so much done without distractions. It was a really good weekend."  
"What about Cecil?"  
"What?"  
Rochelle stared at Carlos.  
"You _must_ have noticed. Tell me you two... Oh good grief, Carlos. We need to talk." 


	7. Walkin' in a Winter Wonderland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Stuck somewhere in winter"  
> Josie/Erikas
> 
> Josie and three angels find themselves transported to a dimension where it is always winter and they meet one of Josie's old friends.

Josie sat up, aware that there had been a noise but unable to identify the origin of the sound. Erika paced the room, head moving from side to side, triangulating. They turned to Josie and shrugged, rustling raven feathers softly in the dark. Another two angels arrived, quietly shushing each other. "Jeez, save me from angels tryin' t' be silent. Erika?"  
The raven-feathered angel flitted to Josie's side and rested a hand on her head.  
"Find out what that racket was about."  
Erika nodded and faded out of Josie's dimension. The other two angels glided across the floor and sat one on either side of Josie. The dove-grey one wrapped two of its arms around Josie's shoulders, protectively pulling her into an embrace. The other opened fiery orange wings and fluffed out its feathers, blanketing Josie from view.  
"Heh, are ya here for mah safety or mah security?"  
"Those concepts coincide for now, Josie."  
Josie leaned against the angel's body, her hand stroking the fabric of the angel's robe.  
"Erika! Yer wearing the winter robe I knitted for ya! Ya like it?"  
The angel hugged Josie tighter for a second. 

Raven Erika returned.  
"There is a disturbance, Josie, we have been moved."  
"Oh now that could mean anything comin' from yous. _Moved_ as in _emotionally manipulated_ or _moved_ as in _displaced?"_  
"The latter, Josie, we are not in Night Vale."  
"And can ye shed any light on just _where_ in all the blessed dimensions we are?"  
"Not all dimensions are blessed, Josie, as you know very well."  
"Out with it, Erika! If you know!"  
"We are in winter." 

Josie sighed. "Ugh. Ah hate winter. The cold gets right to mah bones. Ah'm a creature of fire an' brimstone, y'know? Molten sulfur and magma, that's mah thing. Winter eats away at me like maggots at a corpse."  
Dove Erika offered Josie her knitted robe.  
"No, you keep that on. Heaven's got the heat a' seven suns, ya must be feelin' it. Can't have ye catchin' a chill. I'll manage. Let's see, then."  
Josie wriggled free of the angels' protection and pulled on clothes as Erika handed them to her out of her closet. She surveyed herself in the mirror on the wooden door.  
"Aye, warm can be stylish, Erika, less a' the bag-lady look next time, eh?"  
The angels shook gently and Josie heard laughter that made her warm up pleasantly enough to face the winter cold with a smile. 

Josie stepped out of her back door into snow that reached her knees. Fiery Erika moved to scoop Josie up and carry her but Josie batted the long limbs away.  
"Ah sure am old, Erika, but don't mistake age for infirmity. Ya know Ah can hold mah own."  
Erika stepped back and smoothed down ruffled feathers. They scooped up handfuls of snow, feeling it freeze fingers and melt, dribbling ticklish lines of cold up their arms. Feathers shook again. Erika picked up more soft, white handfuls of cold and looked around. Raven and Dove were busy scouting ahead of them. Josie sniggered as the first two snowballs found their targets.  
"Erika, ya got more arms than them. Play fair."  
Erika loaded up more snowballs and let fly.  
Raven Erika lifted shimmering wings and turned defensively. Dove Erika held threatening wings overhead and jumped to Fiery Erika's side. In one fluid movement, all three Erikas were supine in the snow. Josie laughed.  
"Heh, wanna see how t'make a snow angel?"  
All three leapt up, shook snow from their feathers and turned on Josie. They pelted snow missiles at the little figure as fast as they could but not one touched the diminutive demon. Josie ducked and dodged patiently. Finally she sighed, suspended one snowball in the air in front of her face and blasted hot breath at it until it melted.  
"We got a winter wonderland dimension to investigate and escape. Unless you want to live here f'rever, we oughtta get busy." 

Josie and the Erikas trudged through the snow, looking for any clue as to exactly where they were. The further they walked from the house, the darker it became until the only illumination was soft sparkles of reflected moonlight from the snowscape. Dark shapes loomed up ahead and the Erikas drew closer to Josie, two in front and one behind, wings half raised.  
"Trees, just trees. Pine and fir, can ya smell 'um?"  
The angels explored the fringe of the frosted forest, knocking snow off branches so that it whopped to the ground and green sprung up. Josie showed the angels how to rub the green needles with firm fingers and release a resinous scent that made them stretch up and close their eyes in pleasure. She smiled as Raven Erika wove green twigs into a circlet and handed it to Fiery Erika, who accepted it with a bow and a shimmy. They walked deeper into the forest with the Erikas taking turns to wear the fir crown. 

The angels saw it first, being taller gave them the advantage. They crowded around Josie, sheltering her with gentle wings. One of them plucked her up from the ground and held her close. They waited, silent and still.  
Nothing moved for several minutes and Josie wriggled free. The angels escorted her for a closer look at the object that startled them. Josie laughed. It was a lamp post.  
"Now Erika, there's nothin' to get het up about here, is there? If there's a lamp post there must be a house an' a road an' we c'n ask where we are."  
The angels swarmed around Josie again as a soft swishing sound and a harsh, brittle cry cut through the winter night.  
"Ha-aii! Halt!"  
A tall figure, white skin and blue lips, glowing eyes and long slim neck brought a sled to a stop beside the group. She started to speak but finished with a screech.  
"Just what the hell do you lot think you're doing in MY FUCKING DIMENSION!?" 

Josie peered out from amongst Erikas' feathers.  
"Is that you? Queenie? It's been a devil of a long time, girl!"  
The willowy figure flashed a network of pale blue glowing veins and frowned.  
"Josie? Well fuck me! How the bloody hell are you! And what in the glorious name of all that is good and pure are you doing with that angelic host of a bodyguard?"  
The angels chattered in confusion at the second demon, the one who looked a little like an angel without wings, if you squinted just right. Josie patted feathers reassuringly and slid out of her nest.  
"Long story Queenie. I, we, should be in Night Vale, it's one of the desert dimensions. You know the one with the hooded figures rather than the one with the giant masked army. I'm running a refugee centre for the displaced and dispossessed. The angels are helping out. It's beneficial to both sides that there aren't too many homeless demons looking for a hapless host."  
"Huh. Grown a heart of gold, Josie?"  
"Sure. Cold, hard metal. No. It's my own personal purgatory." 

Queenie shushed the reindeer tethered to her sled.  
"I couldn't take the heat any longer. I got the chance to adapt this dimension to suit myself."  
"I like what you've done with it," drawled Josie.  
"Oooh get you! No need to be bitchy. I like it here. But there's a catch."  
"Of course there is. Lemme guess, ya get a companion but she sleeps for a hunner year then kills ya?"  
"Jeez not that again. No, I have to hang around and wait for a human, some bratty little boy needs to learn a lesson. Oh, wait..."  
Queenie rummaged in her voluminous ermine cloak pockets.  
"Want some turkish delight?" 

Josie shook her head.  
"Not from you, Queenie. We need to get back home to Night Vale. Can ya help?"  
"Yes, yes, easypeasy." Queenie pointed into the depths of the forest. "Just keep heading to where it is darkest and the forest will lead you home. You know you have a few of our trees in Night Vale? They leaked through."  
"I wondered about that. Thanks, Queenie, if this place doesn't work for ya, yer always welcome to come t' me. I can match ya with another host."  
Queenie made a face.  
"Ugh. Maybe if I was desperate. You're all so... so... I'd stick out like a... Oh fuckit. I'd never get a decent cuppatea."  
"Suit yersel'. Erika! Put that down and come on. We gotta get home."  
Erika handed back the squidgy bag of confectionary and licked icing sugar from their rose-flavoured fingers. 

Josie led the angels into the depths of the forest. The trees muttered, lethargic with the weight of snow on their branches, and indicated a path for the four to follow safely. The light dimmed and the branches closed in, brushing against Josie and the Erikas as they pushed their way through. Raven Erika tapped Josie on the arm and held up a light bulb. Josie shook her head.  
"No, Queenie said follow the darkest path. We'll do just that."  
A few minutes later Josie walked with her hands in front of her face, eyes utterly useless. She stopped and groped around as far as she could reach. The Erikas each laid one hand on her to reassure that no being was lost.  
"Ah c'n feel wood in front of me, Erika."  
"We are in a forest, Josie, wood is not unexpected."  
"No, cheeky, proper wood. Like a door."  
Josie reached out and pushed the door. It opened with a click.  
Josie and three angels tumbled out of the wardrobe and sprawled onto Josie's bedroom floor. 

Josie's instruction of "go check!" was redundant because Erika already had the front door open while Erika hung out of the open window and Erika hugged Josie. They were home. Josie peeled off her layers of damp winter clothing. Erika collected it in the laundry basket and tutted.  
Erika announced a visitor.  
"Josie? There is someone who needs you."  
"What, at this time of night?"  
Erika persisted.  
"Someone you promised to help."  
"Oh all right. Put the coffee on and put whoever it is in the living room. I'll be there when I'm dressed."  
Josie dressed quickly and put on her best professional scowl. 

"Queenie!"  
"Josie. Do NOT fucking laugh."  
"I thought you had some kid to take care of."  
"What? That was weeks ago and it did not end well. Keep up, demon-dumbass!"  
"Time, heh. Ah jus' got home twenty minutes ago."  
"Huh. So you'll remember offering me a host?"  
Josie smiled and nodded. "Ah've just the candidate. Clever, assertive, teenager, interns at the radio station. Dies a lot so needs a real strong demon. Yer perfect for each other."  
The formless glowing blob shone blue in approval. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With apologies to lovers of The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe.


	8. Video

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> originally "Sex pollen" but I changed it to "Aliens made me do it" trope.
> 
> Carlos and Maureen are abducted by aliens who have a series of questions resulting from their research into human mating rituals.

"LET ME GO RIGHT NOW OR SO HELP ME I WILL... MMmmmf MMM-MMMMF!"  
Maureen struggled against the restraints and the fabric in her mouth. The dark lump beside her, still immobile, groaned gently. Tentacles reached out and lifted it to sit upright. The figure fell over sideways and jerked awake.  
"Uuhh... what..."  
"MMM-MMMF-MMMMMMFMMMF"  
"Uh?"  
The figure shook its head and looked around at Maureen.  
"Oh it's you! The angry lady! Why are you taped to a chair and why do I feel so dizzy? I just gotta..."  
Carlos keeled over again onto his side and snored gently. The tentacled figure waved an appendage at Maureen. She rolled her eyes, shrugged, nodded and the gag was removed. 

The creature did not exactly speak. It made noises and words came from a speaker on the wall. It waited for Carlos to regain consciousness and helped him onto a chair. Noises and computer generated words, _"are you comfortable?"_  
"NO!"  
A silent head shake.  
 _"We do not intend to cause distress. How can we put you at ease?"_  
"UNTIE ME!"  
"Uuunnngh"  
 _"Do you promise not to hit me again?"_  
Maureen nodded and the alien creature released her from the chair. She got up and walked around, shaking out her arms and legs and rubbing her wrists. The alien kept out of her way. 

_"Please walk through the door behind you."_  
Carlos and Maureen did as they were asked. They entered a second room, decorated like a spacious bedsit with a sofa facing a large television, a small kitchen area, really just fridge and microwave, and a comfortable looking bed with red satin sheets. Maureen raised her eyebrows.  
"Wow. This screams bachelor pad."  
Carlos snorted. "I've seen a place like this before. Don't remember where but it looks familiar."  
"Huh. Sure it wasn't your own post-college dream home?"  
"No way!" Carlos looked horrified. "Satin sheets are nasty and there's no coffee maker."  
 _"Will this facility suffice for your immediate needs? There is a selection of foodstuffs in the kitchen."_  
Maureen walked over to the fridge and listed its contents.  
"Okay mister scientist, we have pineapple, whipped cream, chocolate sauce, ice cream, raspberry sauce, caramel and... honey. What does your scientific deduction skill conclude that we are supposed to do with these?" 

Carlos stood in the middle of the room, hands over his face, shaking his head and repeating, "No, oh no," over and over. He walked around the room, looking at the bed from different angles then said, "no fucking way."  
 _"Please make yourselves comfortable. The instructional video will begin in moments."_  
"Please do not show the video." Carlos felt panic make his voice break. "Just don't, there's no need."  
Maureen looked at him, frowning. "What's the matter, Carlos? What's the video about?"  
Carlos looked at her, wide open eyes, nostrils flared, shaking his head.  
"If they put it on, just don't look, don't watch. Fingers in your ears and face the other way until I say it's okay."  
"Carlos? What. Is. The. Video."  
"And PLEASE, please, please don't ever tell Cecil." 

_"We will pause the video at key points and you humans will illustrate and explain the action we cannot see because the view is blocked, or do not understand."_  
Carlos reddened and his knees shook.  
"What?"  
 _"We will show the video. At key points in the story the camera cuts away from what is happening or there is fabric blocking our view of the participants' actions, or their actions are incomprehensible to us."_  
"You want us to... act out and explain what happens in the video?"  
 _"We wish to study human mating rituals. We are scientists. When we found you, you who are a scientist and also a presenter of a popular instructional material, we thought you would be the ideal person to help us understand your species."_  
Maureen was helpless with giggling.  
"Carlos! Are they saying you're a porn star?" 

"No! No, really. Look, it was this one time when I was at university and I needed money and one of my friends said a local video production company was looking for actors for soft porn. He said I'd be ideal so I did this one video and got my fee, paid my rent and forgot all about it."  
Maureen sat on the sofa facing the TV.  
"Carlos, in the name of scientific research I have GOT to see this."  
"Oh gods no. Please don't watch. It is so embarrassing!"  
The TV popped into life. 

There was nothing Carlos could do to persuade Maureen not to look. He sat on the floor behind the sofa, hugging a cushion and hiding his face.  
"Oh come on, I promise I'll only laugh and I won't tell Cecil. I bet it's no worse than what's on late night TV some days, if it was from your student days."  
Carlos conceded that point. He sat at the farthest point of the sofa from Maureen, still protected by his cushion.  
On the screen, a doorbell rang and a woman answered it wearing a short, barely fastened robe and stiletto heeled shoes. A man with long curly hair and a moustache said _hello madam I've come to fix your boiler._

The video paused on a close up of moustache-man's perfect smile. Maureen sniggered and Carlos groaned.  
 _"Is it normal that when a human female desires sexual satisfaction she call for a tradesman? Our research has picked out that theme as a common one. Please explain."_  
Maureen shrugged, "How the hell would I know? I'm nineteen!"  
There were some soft noises that the computer system did not translate into electronic English, then _"We were not aware age was a barrier, according to your local popular literature, everyone over the age of sixteen is extremely sexually active."_  
Maureen snorted again. Carlos rolled his eyes and answered.  
"No, to my knowledge it is not usual for a human female to call a plumber for sex. Unless she happens to have an established partner who is a plumber."  
 _"Thank you for that clarification"_

The video started up again. The woman looked moustache-man up and down, the camera lingered on a bulge at his crotch. Carlos cringed. "It was a rolled up flannel. That's not _me."_  
Maureen giggled. Robe-Lady wiggled her way down the hall with a long camera shot of her backside and a cut to an appreciative nod from moustache-man. As she walked, the robe fell off to reveal black and gold lacy underwear. She turned and apologised, licking her lips. Moustache-man moved closer. Lingerie-Lady pulled him into the bedroom. Maureen burst out laughing.  
"Oh. My. Gods. It's _here!_ Red satin sheets! Ha! Carlos... this is PURE GOLD! Oh.. do you think the alien wants us to... NO FUCKING WAY, GOT THAT?" 

Moustache-Man removed Lingerie-Lady's remaining wisps of clothing and pushed her onto the bed. The video stopped.  
 _"Is it usual for a human male to display a level of dominance in sexual situations? Again, this is a theme we have noticed in such instructional material."_  
Carlos shrugged. "I honestly have no idea. In my limited experience, some men like to be dominant and others submissive. Some have no clear preference."  
Maureen avoided eye contact.  
 _"This question is for the female. Do you expect a sexual partner to..."_  
"Not if he wants to live a pain-free existence." 

The video resumed with a shot of Moustache-Man undressing. There was a close up of his backside as he climbed on top of the woman.  
"No front shot?"  
"Thankfully not. They were not allowed to show male genitalia up close, especially not in any state of arousal. So all you get is... oh blink and you'll miss it. There, you just missed a shot of my lack of interest in the subject under study."  
"You mean the subject under..."  
"Shut up."  
 _"Is it normal for the female participant to be passive?"_  
"I don't know. I never thought about it." 

The video jumped forward. Moustache-Man and Nude-Lady were on the bed, with a corner of sheet carefully draped to obscure Moustache-Man's genitals from camera view.  
"Aw, Carlos, what did they skip over?"  
"I don't remember, I think a lot of shots of groaning and kissing and some pretty dire dialogue. And she pretended to go get something from the kitchen. Oh, I remember now."  
Nude-Lady walked out of shot and returned seconds later with a can of whipped cream.  
"Um, Carlos? Did they make you wax for this video?"  
"I don't want to talk bout it."  
"Did you scream?"  
"I don't want to talk about it, okay?" 

_"This part is confusing. We cannot see what is happening between the participants. Please demonstrate. Everything you need is in the refrigerator."_  
"Can't I just tell you what happened?"  
 _"We are confused as to the purpose of the foodstuff used. Is it a requirement for the female to have dairy products applied to her mammaries during procreation? We thought the purpose of mammaries was to provide dairy products."_  
"It's a kink. A fetish. In the video they made me put cream on her and lick it off then they made her do the same to me, sort of."  
 _"Is this generally accepted to be a pleasurable experience?"_  
"Neither of us thought so at the time."  
There was another short burst of untranslated noise.  
 _"We are confused. Why demonstrate something you did not enjoy?"_

Carlos sighed. "Look, this is not an educational resource. It's... it's... for entertainment. Other people's entertainment. That's not... I mean... don't take it seriously. People don't... well, some people might I don't know, but, uh..."  
"Yeah, that's not real sex. You can tell, look at Carlos's..."  
"MAUREEN! Please!"  
Untranslated noise.  
 _"Do you confirm that we should disregard all video evidence of human sexuality?"_  
"Yes, I think that would be a good idea."  
 _"Very well. Please pick up the book under the sofa cushion. I am led to believe it is an instruction manual of some kind."_  
Maureen stood up and retrieved the book. She choked and coughed.  
"Oh boy have you been misled! Carlos? Catch."  
"Fifty sh... Oh no. I am not touching this." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for the likely inaccuracies. I have never watched porn videos except for one time I saw a 30 second clip of one when I was channel surfing in a foreign hotel. It was not sexy.
> 
> Also, have it a lttle early. I may have internt difficulties and it is 1.1.15 in my home city.


	9. Tattoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matching soulmate markings - Steve & someone 
> 
> Steve wakes up with what looks like a tattoo, but he knows better. All he has to do now is find the girl with the corresponding mark and they'll live happily ever after.
> 
> If that's really how it works.

"Mom, mom I got one! Look, It happened! I didn't believe it but... Look!"  
Mom looked. "Oh honey that's great! Go show your dad."  
Steve ran out of the house yelling to his dad that he had something to show him. Overnight, as Steve slipped from seventeen years old to eighteen, a marking like a tattoo appeared on his hip. It was a single word in intricate script. Whoever said that word in a suitably dramatic fashion when they met him would be his soul-mate. It had to be dramatic, Steve's dad said. After all, it could just as easily have been twelve point comic sans. No, he said, you're looking for an artist or an actress my boy, maybe a musician, not a schoolmistress or a welder.  
"In that case," his mom chipped in, "you better work hard at college and get a decent job. Artists are not well paid and poverty sucks." 

Steve had laughed although he didn't think his parents were terribly funny. He kept quiet about it at his eighteenth birthday party that night, the last thing he wanted was his friends telling everyone and everyone saying the word to him and pissing him off. Trouble was, plenty of people did say it, it was a common enough word, but Steve's replies never made anyone roll up a sleeve or lift the edge of a shirt and say, "Oh my, look! We should get to know each other better." 

After the initial excitement of his soul-mate marking, Steve listened out for his word. Sometimes he heard it but it was directed at someone else. Sometimes it was said to him but by someone who was so clearly wrong for him that he barely noticed. A librarian said it in passing once and Steve shuddered, refusing to speak until he was three streets away.  
He went to college and mostly forgot about it. Occasionally he would catch sight of the mark in the mirror after showering but it just made him sigh and shrug. One day it would happen and he would _know_. There would be a moment of silence, a grin or maybe a shy smile, an invitation to check each other's markings and a tentative enquiry as to where they should go for their first date.  
Steve simply got on with being a college student. He studied, partied, lived in a shared house with roommates of similarly dubious hygiene standards, ate whatever he could afford that week and watched the lines and arrows in the sky. 

Steve looked back on his college dating history with a mixture of warmth and regret. He had girlfriends, not many, but none used his word when they met. At first he had resolved not to date, to wait for his soul-mate to reveal herself with a word and a gesture. He hung out in the practical arts faculty building when he could, using their cafeteria and studying in their library. He learned enough about art and music and theatre that he didn't stand out too badly. But none of the arty girls paid him much attention.  
He realised after a year that if he waited for his soul mate, he might end up with a girl he really wanted to impress but have no idea what to do about it. A secondary consideration was that some of the girls in the history of engineering faculty were actually really nice and he wanted to get to know them better. A lot better. 

Steve stopped inhabiting the arts faculty in hope, and started using his own faculty with intent. He was surprised to find that a year and a bit spent expanding his knowledge and interest beyond the confines of his chosen career was not a disadvantage at all. The girls he talked to didn't want to talk about the subjects they studied all day. They were interested in other things.  
Steve dated. He still got nervous around girls he liked but he knew whenever he asked a fellow student on a date that if she said no, that was okay because she wasn't his soul-mate. He kept things simple. Coffee after lectures, then a drink after the library closed, maybe if that went well he would suggest a walk to stare at the sky or a movie. He got all the correct forms for dating and insisted that they fill them in together. His roommates said that was a mistake, really unromantic, girls like romance and mystery. But Steve's reply was always that if his girl wanted mystery and romance then she was with the wrong guy. He had girlfriends he liked, a lot, but none that he missed much when they drifted away or, as happened once, suddenly realised mid-date that their actual soulmate was the guy at the next table who leaned over and asked for their chili flakes shaker. 

By the time Steve hit thirty five he was getting fed up. His soul mate still hadn't shown up to fill his life with meaning and he was increasingly bored with the pointlessness of dating. He worked as hard as he needed to and no more, earned enough and was careful with his money for the day when he might have someone to provide for. His mom regularly asked for progress updates and Steve avoided answering phone calls. 

Steve's dad consoled him a little better.  
"Your mom is just really keen to have grandchildren. She knows you're waiting for the right person, but she's impatient and thinks you should go out looking for them a little more actively. Put yourself out there, start dating again. You never know, you don't want to have a soul mate and never meet them because the day they're in town you're sulking at home?"  
Steve grunted. "Yeah, I guess, it just seems pointless."  
"Hey, did you hear about your old schoolfriend, Karen? She found her soulmate and it's a friend of her mother's. They totally love each other but they're not _in love_ if you know what I mean. They're both married to other people and have kids and everything. The kids treat each other's families like they're all cousins. And there's my pal Danny whose soul mate turned out to be his brother and they've known for years but didn't say in case people thought it was weird, and they're just, like, really close and stuff. So soul mate might not mean wife. Uh, if you want to talk to either of them I could pass on your number, this soul mate thing isn't what it's perceived as. Not always."  
"Huh."  
Steve thought about that. His soul mate might not be the person he would marry. And that could be okay. 

Steve didn't ask for his number to be passed on. He quietly started going out again without any real expectation of meeting anyone. Most people his age were already paired off and a couple of experiments with local dating pages convinced him that being single wasn't so bad.  
When Steve did meet someone, it was when he wasn't looking. He was called out to a building site and traipsed over to the site office, hard hat under his arm, quietly muttering curses that his routine had been disturbed and the rough ground had ruined another set of hubcaps. He pushed open the portakabin door and spoke without looking at the person behind the counter.  
"Hi I'm Steve Carlsberg from the engineer's office, I'm..."  
Words failed him as he looked into the kindest pair of eyes he had ever seen.  
"I'm, um, Steve, and..."  
The owner of the eyes laughed. Steve was lost.  
"Hello Mr Carlsberg, I'm Ms Palmer. You're expected. Hat on, please? This way."  
Steve made sure that every time an engineer was called to that site, he was available. 

Steve kept it simple. Coffee at lunchtime one day, a drink after work a week later, a tentative invitation to dinner a week after that. After another month, an invitation to the Palmer household to meet Janice. Two months after that, with Janice's permission, Steve proposed and the future Mrs Carlsberg accepted. Steve told his future wife about the soul mate marking and they laughed about it together. 

The wedding was the first time both families met. Janice pulled Steve's sleeve and pointed.  
"There's Uncle Cecil! He's funny. I bet you'll be friends."  
Steve walked over to introduce himself and almost dropped his glass as the man who looked disconcertingly like his new wife threw an arm out expansively and said, _"Welcome!"_  
Steve stuttered out a reply, "Hello, it's an exciting day, isn't it?"  
Uncle Cecil turned red, turned around and walked away. Janice giggled.  
"Oh he's a bit odd but he'll get used to having you around as a brother or whatever."  
"I hope so, Janice."  
"He doesn't talk about it but he's got a tattoo of words too, Mom said he got it when he was twenty. It says something about what an exciting day it is." 

Steve decided, on balance, it was best left up to Cecil to decide what to do. He would be nice, be supportive, be the best husband, stepfather and brother in law he could possibly be, and hope Cecil would warm to him.  
He couldn't help wondering if the soul mate mark all those years ago hit the wrong Palmer. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soulmate doesn't have to meen sexual partner.
> 
> I wanted to make Janice and Steve be soulmates but however I wrote it, it sounded creepy, dammit!


	10. Islands in the stream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trope: Deserted Island
> 
> Carlos finds a door.  
> It leads him somewhere that isn't the desert and certainly isn't Night Vale, but he meets someone he has heard of before.

Carlos couldn't believe his eyes. It was there, right in front of him. He found that the science in the desert was a lot less interesting than finding out where that door might take him. He gathered up all his most essential scientific equipment, said a fond and tearful goodbye to Doug and Alicia, texted Cecil and stepped through the door. 

It wasn't Night Vale. Carlos could tell, the air smelled wrong and his danger-meter was only on orange, not jammed into infra red bordering on microwave. A quick look at the nearest vegetation confirmed that he was not in Night Vale. There were none of the familiar, spindly creosote bush, purple prickly pear and barrel cactus plants he would expect. Instead the greenery was lush, dense and broad-leaved. He was not a botanist, not into plants at all really, but the lack of tough shrubs and succulents suggested a wetter climate. Also it was raining. 

It did rain in the sand wastes. Not often, a few seasonal thundery deluges, but enough to sustain plants with a tenacious grip on life and the animals that formed the food pyramid based on those plants. It was a precarious existence. Not so here, there was so much life it seemed somehow obscene.  
Carlos stood in the rain as great, heavy drops soaked him in minutes. He realised he was wet through and grinned. After so many months of sand and dust this was blessed relief, he stripped and stood naked and let the rain wash him clean. He tasted raindrops as they landed in his mouth, held out his hands to catch more, rubbed his matted hair and finally just stood still.  
After a few more minutes, Carlos realised he was not alone. 

He picked up his lab coat, wrung it out and put it on, fastening the poppers for modesty.  
"Hello, sorry, I didn't think there was anyone here. I just came through that door and..."  
Carlos turned to point at the door but it was not there. "Oh, there was a door. Now there is no door. Did you observe anything? What happened when the door vanished?"  
"I didn't see anything. I was distracted by the sight of another human taking a naked rain-shower. I have not seen another human for a long time. Well over a year, I think maybe as much as two, but counting got so tedious."  
"Oh. So this is your rainforest?"  
The man shrugged. "I just live here." 

The two men stood a few feet apart. Carlos flicked his eyes around his surroundings while the other man stared at him openly. The other man shook himself, shook his head and apologised, stepping forward and holding out his right hand.  
"I am sorry, I'm not used to polite company. I have not seen another person for so long I have forgotten my manners. Welcome to the island, please make yourself at home. My name is Harlan, Earl Harlan."  
Carlos smiled and shook Earl's hand enthusiastically.  
"Oh I have heard of you! This is so scientifically interesting! You're from Night Vale, you were carried away during some scout ceremony. Cecil told me..."  
"You know Cecil? Cecil Palmer?"  
"Uh, yes. Sorry, I got carried away by the discovery that you are from Night Vale and completely forgot to introduce myself. My name is Carlos and I am a scientist."  
"The one he always used to talk about on his show? With the perfect hair? And the teeth?"  
"That's me!" Carlos flashed a perfect smile. "Cecil is my boyfriend." 

Earl laughed.  
"He eventually got the nerve to ask you out?"  
"Not exactly. Oh I must call him and tell him you're alive! He will be happy about that. I like when he is happy."  
Carlos rummaged to find his phone in the pockets of his discarded jeans. It was not working and he felt panic bubbling at his stomach.  
"No! It got so wet! It's damaged probably. Oh no. I need to dry it out and see if it will work. This is my only contact with Cecil. I can't bear..."  
"Oh! Oh dear. It'll be okay I'm sure," Earl lied for the benefit of the tearful scientist. "I have a shelter, I built it myself and it's pretty reliable because I am a scout. We can dry everything off there. Come on, bring all your stuff."  
Earl turned and walked away, Carlos picked up his bag of science kit, his wet clothes and traipsed after him. 

"You were not kidding about the shelter, Earl, this is fantastic!" Carlos looked at the complex structure Earl had built for himself. "Scientifically speaking you have made excellent use of the available building materials. Is this giant bamboo? I am a scientist, not a botanist, but it looks like you have incorporated living, growing plants to support your structure!"  
Earl grinned at the admiration.  
"Yes, I used living plants where I could. They are more resilient and will grow and knit together to make the shelter more durable, more permanent. There is a dead wood scaffold shaping it all. I started it almost as soon as I realised I was not going home so it has had a chance to develop for more than a full growth cycle."  
It was still raining heavily.  
"Carlos? The drying room is there. As a scout I suggest that you remove all your wet clothing and spread everything out on the racks. Your equipment too. Um, I will do the same. I hate being wet, it chafes. I should be dry and in the desert. Unless you need to wash your clothes? You look kinda... You wanna use the soap I made? It's in the wash-house over there."  
"Oh. Okay that makes sense from a scientific point of view, my clothing is filthy. Did you use wood ash for the lye? What oil did you use? Is it corrosive?"  
Earl assured Carlos that he had used his homemade soap often and come to no harm. Carlos removed his lab coat in the wash-house and set to cleaning his clothes. He admired the bamboo pipework that brought water in from one tank and took used water out to another tank. When finished, he took his things to the drying room where the naked scoutmaster already had a small fire lit to dry the air.  
"You have fantastic plumbing!" 

Carlos spluttered, "I mean in the wash-house, that's a really clever use of gravity."  
"Thanks! I am quite proud of it. Okay I'm done here," Earl reached for Carlos's bundle of wet garments. "Let me take your clothes off you."  
"No, I can manage."  
Carlos draped his wet things on the bamboo scaffold and Earl suggested they go to the main part of his camp. Carlos marvelled at the two-storey building.  
"If the bamboo grows tall enough next year I can add another floor. Expand upwards, you know? I have a living area on the ground and sleeping area upstairs but I usually do my food prep outside under that shelter. I amuse myself by developing my own recipes."  
Earl pointed at a fire pit shielded from the rain by a slanted roof on a semicircular support. Carlos commented that every slanted surface led to a sloping trough that collected run-off and stored rainwater in tanks.  
"Yeah, you can take the scout out of the desert, but you can't stop him from conserving resources. Are you hungry? I got something I bet you've never put in your mouth before." 

Earl stared out of the doorway and Carlos watched a beetle on the wall. The living area was comfortable and dry, a circular structure with a raised seating area and a curtain made of woven grass. Earl broke the uncomfortable silence.  
"So how did you and Cecil get together?"  
Carlos explained about the miniature civilisation and his injury, how it made him want to be more open, more trusting. How he asked Cecil to meet him then a couple of weeks later called and asked him out to dinner, how surprised he was by Cecil's genuine desire to get to know him.  
"Yeah, he's like that. If he likes someone or something he just says so."  
"I had observed that in his nature. It is..."  
"Uh-huh?"  
"He misses you, you know. He regrets losing touch. You were good friends once?"  
"The best."  
They were quiet again, but more comfortably so, each lost in similar thought.  
"You started to say something about Cecil and stopped. What was it?"  
"I was thinking that his openness about our relationship is infuriating at times when he talks to his microphone too much, but..." Carlos waited for Earl to stop laughing, "...but it is what I need. If I do something wrong he tells me. I need that. I've lost friends before because they only hint at me and they think I don't care." 

Carlos questioned Earl about his life on the deserted island, comparing notes with his own experience in the desert. Earl questioned Carlos about what he knew of events in Night Vale since he was removed. Carlos related what he knew first hand and what he heard second hand filtered through Cecil's reporting skills. Earl frowned.  
"There was no replacement scoutmaster?"  
"No, I believe that the scouts joined forces with the Girl-scouts and the Book Club. They have formed a successful alliance, or so I hear."  
"I should try harder to return. I am scoutmaster, living here on my own has been nice, in a way. It is lonely at times, but a scout is trained to be independent, self-reliant."  
"Exactly!" Carlos punctuated his point by pointing at a random patch of air. "A scientist is also self-reliant."  
"Huh. We have a lot in common. Self-reliant, trapped in the wrong dimension, and..."  
"Love Cecil?"  
"Yeah." 

Earl sighed. "But not like that. We were best friends, nothing more really. We had different paths to follow. We drifted apart and he and I just forgot each other for a while. By the time I realised, it was too late. He was talking about you all the time. And that's okay, right? He's happy?"  
Carlos thought and frowned.  
"He says he is, mostly I believe him. It's hard on him, this long distance thing we've got. I mean, we talk all the time... Oh! My phone!"  
Carlos dashed out and ducked into the drying room. His phone sat on a rock next to the fire pit and beeped happily. Carlos grinned and sent a text.  
 _Will call when I can. Have news sorry not a door back to NV. Love you x_  
Earl came into the drying room.  
"Is it working? Can you call Cecil?"  
Carlos concealed his silent phone from Earl's view and pressed the button that turned it off.  
"Not yet." 

"Your clothes are still too wet and it's still raining. You should stay here overnight and we can look for a way back tomorrow. Two people looking should double our chances."  
"That is logical, as long as we agree a search pattern and a signal in case one of us finds a door."  
"Yes. We can talk about that in the morning. It's getting dark. Do you prefer top or bottom?"  
"What?"  
"Where would you rather sleep? The bedroom upstairs or the living room downstairs?"  
"Oh, downstairs if that's okay."  
"Sure." 

In the morning the rain had stopped. In the early, weak sunlight, the trees still dripped big, fat droplets onto the leaf litter below. Carlos and Earl rose, stretched and dressed quietly before discussing their search over breakfast.  
They set off in a sweep of the nearby area. Their agreed signal was simply a loud shout to the other, with a meeting point back at camp.  
Earl knew what to do if he found a door, he had thought about it all night. It did not involve Carlos. Cecil needed a friend, Cecil needed him. Carlos had been in the other desert for months without even looking. He would take far better care of his friend than Carlos. Cecil would see that, given time.  
Maybe. 

Carlos pushed through the forest until he reached a sandy beach. He watched the waves for a few minutes then wished he had his recording equipment. He counted and counted again to be sure.  
"Huh!"  
"Talking to yourself is normal, Carlos."  
"But those waves are not! They're on a loop!"  
Carlos watched the waves for another half hour, counting. The waves followed a pattern, repeating every four and a half minutes. He walked along the beach, looking for other repeating patterns. He found them in the pattern of vegetation that looked like scrolling background. He sat on the sand and thought about his observations until he fell asleep. 

Carlos woke up on the sand. He sat up, cursed to himself and got up to get his scientific equipment. The waves and the plants needed to be studied. They were the most scientifically interesting...  
They were gone. The sea was gone, the waves were gone, The vegetation was gone. The sand under him felt familiar, pink and smooth. He looked around and saw.  
A mountain in the distance with a lighthouse on top. 

Earl slipped through the door quietly and woke up as if from a dream, in a room that he knew was his bedroom. It felt like home. A voice he didn't really remember, but sounded familiar somehow, reminded him that he was on late shift at the restaurant tonight. He smiled.  
He wondered how best to contact Cecil and offer friendly support. It wouldn't do to be too forward, he knew Cecil, and he would not repeat the mistakes of his teenage self on graduation night. 


	11. Sunshine of Your Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trope: meet in a dream
> 
> Carlos has a recurring nightmare. It involves light and light and light and...  
> (ep59 Antiques spoiler)

_...and we are light and light and light and light_  
Carlos was sweating. It wasn't unusual in the desert heat, but this was the cool of night and he felt the soaked clammy sheet beneath him. He got up, hoping the damp would air out while he took a shower to erase the nightmare.  
"Mmmf, you okay?"  
"Yes, just had a bad dream. Don't wake up, I'm fine."  
"Mmnnngh."  
Carlos smiled as Cecil drifted from almost-awake back into slumber. He dipped his head ready to kiss the forehead of the man who would have got up with him if he had needed comfort, but stopped short of contact. He padded quietly through to the shower and stood under the warm trickle for a couple of minutes before towelling dry and going back to the bedroom. He slid back into bed beside Cecil. Cecil shuffled round and kissed him.  
"Same nightmare again? The one with the light?"  
"Yes, but it's gone now."  
"Mmm. You sleeping on damp hair? That's going to look so adorable in the morning!"

Carlos could not remember the first time he had the nightmare with the light that shifted and warped and offered him impossible things. It was after he came to Night Vale, for sure, and before he entered the House That Does Not Exist and found his new desert home.  
It still bothered him. He lied to Cecil and said that he was fine, but the dream still taunted him with visions of things he desired but knew he could not have.  
Carlos thought that shutting the doors against the terrible light on the horizon would stop the nightmares.  
Carlos was wrong.

The dream always started in the same way. Carlos would be asleep and light streaming in through the window of his bedroom, the one he shared with Cecil, would wake him. But Cecil would be missing. The light would brighten, change colour to a deep yellow like a child's portrait of the summer sun. It would tell him in a whispering voice that Cecil was gone, Cecil had left him because he didn't involve Cecil enough in his science.  
When he was still in Night Vale, Carlos would wake up and find Cecil asleep beside him, and that was enough to settle his mind.  
In the desert, Carlos would wake and call Cecil to hear that voice say _I miss you_ and _I love you_ and _Carlos? Look for a door!_  
Over time, Carlos realised he was calling Cecil every day. He tried not sleeping but it was impossible to stay awake forever. Star-watching with Alisha helped, when they were around, but Carlos was often alone.

He slept.  
Light impinged his eyelids, waking him up, making him shield his eyes and groan, waiting for the whispering against him.  
 _You think he will wait for you but he won't. There is another who wants him. Someone who is there in person._  
Carlos spoke but his voice came out weak. "No, he misses me. He says so all the time."  
 _But he misses you less and less when you're not there and he, the other one who loves him too, is there. He is planning how to make his move, how to rekindle an old flame..._  
"No, Cecil wouldn't do that! He wouldn't. He loves me!"  
 _Cecil has no more reason to love you. You don't satisfy him the way you used to. He has no reason not to leave you. He is forgetting how you used to make him feel and someone else will take your place._

Carlos jerked awake. The light was normal desert light and he sighed, reaching for his phone. He called Cecil and left a voicemail, just a _Hello I'll call later_ and stood up, brushing sand off his clothing. He looked towards the horizon.  
"No! I am not asleep!"  
The light shifted and shimmered, changing from pale white to deep yellow, colouring the sky and tingeing the desert sand.  
 _He rejected your call. He does not have time for you because you do not love him enough._  
"But I do! I love Cecil so much. I never loved anyone like I love Cecil!"  
 _He thinks you don't love him. You don't love him enough. You don't love him as much as someone else might, someone who is there to hold him and kiss him and..._  
"SHUT UP! SHUT THE FUCK UP"  
Carlos sank down to the sand and sobbed until he was empty.

In the quiet that followed, Carlos checked his phone but there was nothing. He dropped it and put his head in his hands.  
"I can't go to him. I can't get home. I can't. I can't. I can't show him. I tell him but I can't show him how much I love him."  
Carlos rocked back and forwards on his knees with his arms around his shaking head.  
"I can't, I can't I can't..."  
 _There is a way._  
"There isn't. I've looked, I've searched, there is no way out for me."  
 _There is another way you could be with him_  
"How? Tell me!"

 _Let me in and I will show you_  
"No, no I can't."  
 _Then you will lose him in the knowledge that you could have prevented it._  
"Tell me what to do!"  
 _Let me in and I will show you._  
 _Let me in and we will be light and light and light and light and he will love you._  
"No!"  
But Carlos opened his eyes and let the light pour in.

Carlos woke up and reached for his phone.  
He knew the solution.  
 _Cecil? If I find that doorway would you maybe come here again? Just for a visit?_  
He listened and smiled and said _neat!_ as Cecil made sounds of doubt.  
Over the next days, the light washed over Carlos although he couldn't see it any more. It filled him until he felt calm, happy and excited by the possibilities he couldn't understand before. He talked to the desert, to the light, to the figure who joined him and smiled back.  
 _I don't know why I waited so long. This is my purpose!_  
 _It is so motivating to have a purpose! So fulfilling to achieve it!_  
Carlos smiled his perfect smile at the man with the burned out sockets.

The Smiling God showed Carlos what he had to do.  
The Smiling God taught Carlos how to appear to the Voice.  
The Smiling God needed the Voice.  
Carlos needed the Voice.  
The voice would come to them.  
To him.

The Smiling God couldn't wait.

It was going to be good.

 

[Sunshine](http://youtu.be/HbqQL0J_Vr0)


	12. If You Belonged to Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trope: arranged marriage  
> Cecil/Carlos

Carlos carried the mail from the floor in the hallway through to the kitchen where Cecil was busy with the coffee maker. He sorted it into three piles: his, Cecil's and junk.  
"Hey, want to keep any of these leaflets?"  
Cecil shook his head and poured two cups of coffee, handing one to Carlos who handed Cecil his mail in return. They sat down at the kitchen table.  
"I got a letter about additional lab funding, it says no."  
"Aw, sorry to hear that. You got more applications out there though, something will come up."  
"Yeah, I hope so. I don't want to have to close the lab."  
"I got a letter from Janice. Look, she sent me a drawing of you and her making stuff explode."  
"Oh that's so sweet! Can I have it for my lab?"  
"But I want it for my booth!"

"I see we have to fill in a new set of _Cohabitation Progress Report_ forms. These are getting tedious." Carlos sighed, Cecil shrugged.  
"I don't mind, I'll take them to work and get Intern Maureen to do it for us, I can nominate her as proxy and she can fill it in, legally."  
"Are you sure that's a good idea?"  
"What harm can it to? It's mostly tick boxes. Here, sign it now and she can run them straight to City Hall. I don't want to spend our weekend date money on another fine for tardy paperwork."  
"No, that would be bad. What would you like to do this weekend?"  
"I thought bowling and dinner."  
"That would be neat!"  
"Scientifically speaking, of course."

In hindsight, Cecil realised that it wasn't asking Maureen to fill in the forms that was the problem. It was probably asking Maureen to fill in the forms after sending her to the library, getting her to run errands to three different coffee shops, slapping a tight turnaround on copyediting his latest slashfic and failing to acknowledge her _Intern Of The Month_ badge. In his defence, the intern of the month tended to get the badge simply by being alive on the day Station Management decided to slide it under the door.

Another morning, another mail sort for Carlos and more coffee making for Cecil.  
"Oh look! Janice drew this for you!" Cecil handed Carlos a sheet of paper.  
"Oh that's... that's you and me bowling! This one is for my lab, right?"  
Cecil smiled and nodded as he looked at the perfectly innocent drawing of a man with perfectly messy hair bending over with one arm out in front and one behind while a man with shorter, smoother hair stood right behind him.  
"Want any of these leaflets?"  
"Nah."  
"Oh, what's this?" Carlos studied the brown envelope with the City Hall crest on it. Cecil held up an identical envelope, addressed to him.  
"Together?"  
They opened their envelopes.

"Uh, Cecil, what is this?"  
Carlos read the letter over again, turning the page over to check the back and searching the envelope in case he had missed anything.  
"Um... I... I... uh... I have no idea how this happened! Carlos? Please believe me, I didn't make this happen!"  
"Me neither! I mean, I know we live together and that's great, so great! And we were going to go get a joint bank account for rent and stuff, but... Cecil? It's way too soon for this kind of commitment!"  
They stared at each other.  
"I'll call in at City Hall before my show and see if I can find out where the mix up happened."  
Carlos nodded. "Good idea. Let me know if you find out. Scientifically speaking, couples who rush into...."  
"Yeah, marriage is a really huge deal and not something we should do without proper discussion."

Carlos went to work satisfied that Cecil would sort things out with City Hall. Cecil put on his best work suit and headed into town. The doors at City Hall were opening and closing randomly, letting people in one at a time. Cecil joined the shortest queue and sighed as the queues on either side moved faster than his. Eventually he dived into the foyer and approached the desk.  
"Hi I have a query about a City-endorsed arranged marriage?"  
"You want third floor, hun, follow the blue line on the floor, watch the sneaky little butt carefully because it likes to hide and get people lost." The desk clerk never looked up.  
Cecil looked at the floor and found the start of the blue line. He followed it, not taking his eyes off it once, catching it as it tried to wiggle off to one side and hide under a cabinet. It led him to a door and Cecil went in.  
"Hi I have a query about an arranged marriage?"  
The desk clerk looked up and smiled. "Oh? Congratulations! I take it you are one of the enforced betrothed?"  
"Well, yes, but I don't want to be and neither does my fian... boyfriend."  
"Oh. That might be a problem."

Cecil waited as the clerk took the letter and typed the reference number into a computer. They looked awkwardly away from each other with _takes a while sometimes_ and _ha ha don't we all_ pleasantries that neither of them really knew they were saying. Eventually the screen refreshed, the speaker beeped and the clerk _aha_ -ed.  
"Mr Palmer? It looks like you agreed to this marriage. So did Professor Scientist."  
"That's not possible. There must be a mistake."  
"I can show you a copy of your _Cohabitation Conversion_ form, if you want to see for yourself."  
"Yes, show me, please. Someone must have filed a different form under our reference number by mistake."  
"Mr Palmer? We don't make that kind of mistake. Sit there, I'll fetch your forms. Can I get you coffee while you wait?"  
Cecil refused. He was trembling enough without added caffeine.

Carlos, meanwhile, paced his lab nervously until Rochelle told him to stop it, sit down and spill. He outlined the contents of the letters he and Cecil received informing them of the date and time of their wedding.  
"Ha! Can I walk you down the aisle? You need to go ring shopping? Can I help?"  
"It's not funny."  
"Huh. No. But..."  
"What."  
"Suppose Cecil can't get you both out of this. Would it be so awful?"  
"Honestly? Yes! It's a decision we have to make for ourselves. Even if we turned out to be happy together, it's not something that should be imposed on us."

The clerk returned with a file and extracted a copy of a document.  
"Look, Mr Palmer, here is your signature and Professor Scientist's signature on the next line."  
Cecil flicked through the form.  
"But this is just our standard _Cohabitation Progress Report,_ not a betrothal form!  
"Mr Palmer? It can be both. Look here, question 48biii."  
Cecil read.  
 _The nominated proxy decrees that the cohabitees are suitable candidates for marriage._  
Maureen had ticked _yes._

"Oh! That is a mistake. Our proxy, Maureen, must not have understood the question or not thought about the implications. I'm sure she didn't mean for us to have to marry right now!"  
"Mr Palmer, local bye-laws are clear. You have been identified as suitable candidates for marriage, you signed the form in agreement, your wedding is on Thursday afternoon. Congratulations."  
"There must be a way out of this!" Cecil almost squeaked. "Nobody can force us to get married!"  
"You had the right to appeal within twenty four hours of the decision. That time expired..." the clerk looked at the wall clock, "thirteen minutes ago. I am sorry you are so negative about matrimony, Mr Palmer, I hope you and Professor Scientist have a nice day on Thursday and a wonderful life together. Goodbye."  
Cecil was silent for about fifteen seconds. His frustration-fuelled rant that followed caused his eviction from the building flanked by two burly security guards. He sat on the steps of City Hall and called Carlos.

Carlos said to call in sick and go home and he'd be there soon. Cecil said he'd rather go to work and think about other things for a while. Carlos met Cecil after his show.  
"You okay, Cecil?"  
"I guess."  
They walked to Cecil's car and got in.  
"I don't want to go home yet. Can I drive you out to the desert and we can sit for a while? Sometimes I have to get out of town."  
"I'd like that."  
Cecil drove Carlos clear of the neons and street-lamps, pulling off the road when it was properly dark. He switched off the headlights and the ignition. They got out of the car, Carlos retrieved a blanket from the back and they sat on the hood, wrapped up together against the chill air.  
"It's not Maureen's fault but I was pretty mean about it to her tonight. I feel bad about that."

"So can we get out of it?"  
"Not legally, the clerk was pretty clear on that point. It can't be cancelled."  
"What if we don't show up?"  
"Urgh, I asked that and they've assigned us guards to escort us there."  
"It's on Thursday, and today is Tuesday."  
"Yes. Not even enough time to organise a proper party."  
"Scientifically speaking, that's less than forty eight hours. We could survive out here for that long."  
"The clerk explained the repercussions of absconding. In excruciating detail. It's not worth it."

Thursday came round. Cecil wore his best tunic and favourite furry pants, making Carlos smile. Carlos wore his best formal lab-coat.  
"You ready?" Carlos offered Cecil his arm.  
"No, but let's go anyway."  
They drove to City Hall escorted by two security guards, parked in a reserved space and went inside. Rochelle and Maureen were there as witnesses and Maureen whispered a quick _sorry!_ as they walked to the non-denominational faithless not-chapel for their ceremony. The happy couple paused at the door.  
"Like we planned?"  
"Like we planned."

Mayor Cardinal stood at the front of the room. She smiled and waved at Cecil and Carlos as music started and they walked up to her.  
"As Mayor, I have the great privilege of conducting this wedding ceremony for Cecil and Carlos, at Cecil's request. They have asked for the short version so, here goes!"  
Do you, Cecil Gershwin Palmer, promise to love and honour Carlos Scientist for as long as you both live?"  
"Um, Dana, I really can't make that kind of commitment right now, so I guess no, I don't. I mean I'd like it if we could but it's really far too soon to tell."  
"Huh. It only needs one of you to say yes. Do you, Carlos Scientist..." Carlos rolled his eyes. He had filled in his last name properly on every form City Council sent him and yet they persisted in getting it wrong.  
"Do you promise to love and honour Cecil Gershwin Palmer for as long as you both live?"  
"Scientifically speaking that is statistically unlikely, more than half of hasty marriages end in divorce and I really don't want to risk putting us through that kind of stress. Maybe in the future, if it exists, who knows! I'm not totally against the idea of getting married one day, maybe we can think about it. But right now? Uh, No."  
"Huh. By the power bestowed upon me by the strange and powerful entities who inhabit Hidden Gorge and are totally not our reptilian alien overlords, I pronounce you not to be husbands. Congratulations, you may kiss your boyfriend."

The small not-wedding party went to Rico's for dinner. Rochelle, Dana and Maureen left together as soon as the meal was over, leaving Cecil and Carlos alone.  
"That's the last time we get anyone else to fill in forms for us."  
Carlos nodded.  
"I agree. Too risky."  
"But it made us talk about the future, sort of, I suppose."  
"Uh-huh, I'm glad we agree that it's too big a step to take so soon after moving in together. I love you, Cecil, but things in the future are always so uncertain."  
"I love you too, Carlos. Let's settle up and go home."  
Carlos drove. All the way home Cecil's hand in his pocket clamped around the little velvet box he had brought just in case anyone changed their mind.

 

[If you belonged to me](http://youtu.be/1LJ5ZeFEdsw)


	13. Talk Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trope: Handcuffed together  
> Cecil & Steve
> 
> Janice is SO FED UP with Uncle Cecil and Dad arguing all the time. She finds a way to force them to talk it out.

"Hey buddy!"  
Cecil growled but stood back to let Steve into his house. By the time Janice wheeled herself in, Cecil's face was all smiles for her.  
"Janice, great to see you!"  
"Hi Uncle Cecil! Dad said it would be okay if I came too. Can I read some of Uncle Carlos's books while he helps you with whatever it was you were doing?"  
"Uh, sure! You know where his bookcase is. Go help yourself. Soda's in the kitchen if you want some, I got _Rattler Venom_ brand, it's great for hango... when I feel a bit flat in the mornings sometimes."  
Janice was already on her way down the hall to raid Carlos's book collection. Neither Steve nor Cecil entirely approved of Janice's choice of reading material, for very different reasons, but they agreed that it was better for her to sate her curiosity in the relative safety of Cecil's dining room rather than risking the teenager slipping out to go to the library on her own. Cecil went through the house and out into the yard where he found Steve.

"Janice is reading Carlos's books again."  
"Oh? Do you know which one? I love that she's so interested but I don't think she should be reading stuff that is so far above her level. It might put her off."  
"What? She's a bright girl! Let her read Carlos's science textbooks if she wants. He has a lovely set of encyclopaedias on conspiracy theories I got him a while back. He laughed so much when he read them."  
"Consp... Oh Cecil, she needs to read his proper science books, not that junk!"  
"Junk? JUNK? Steve Carlsberg! Everything on that bookcase is proper science! I know, it says so on the shelf!"  
"Cecil, that's because you made a label and stuck it on. Janice needs to know what's real and what isn't if she's going to get by in Night Vale. She needs to be able to evaluate what she's told and..."  
"NO! No. She needs to be able to BELIEVE what she's told so that NOBODY GETS SUSPICIOUS of her. She needs to fit in like YOU DON'T"  
"And you do, Cecil? Really?"

Janice came out into the yard to witness her stepfather and her uncle circling each other around a pile of bricks that should really be a barbecue by now. She looked at the object in her hand, the thing she just found inside a hollowed out copy of _The Perfumed Garden,_ which she had struggled to take from the upper shelf, interested because she was surprised to see that her Uncles had a book about scented flowers when neither of them had ever shown any interest in their yard beyond keeping the weeds down.  
Janice watched as her stepfather and her uncle verbally attacked each other over which of them was the better Night Vale citizen. She moved closer as Uncle Cecil grabbed her stepfather's wrist, gesticulating with his free hand as if to make his point more forcefully.  
She snapped.  
"OH YOU TWO ARE SO IMMATURE! HERE!" She clicked the handcuffs around their wrists, locking them together. "I'll let you have the key as soon as you GROW UP!"  
Janice spun her chair and kicked up some gravel as she went back into the house.

Cecil and Steve pulled their arms away from each other but the handcuffs held. Cecil tested the release but they were locked.  
"Cecil? Do you keep any tools in the shed?"  
"What shed."  
Steve looked around. Cecil and Carlos didn't appear to be DIY enthusiasts.  
"What tools do you have in the house?"  
"Why would we keep dangerous stuff like that lying around? I bet you have all sorts of sharp, dangerous tools lying out carelessly that anyone could hurt themselves on."  
Steve rolled his eyes. "You must have something that will break these handcuffs open."  
"Only the key."

They went inside, which involved bickering over who was pulling and an argument over who should go through the door first since experience showed they wouldn't fit through side by side. Janice was in the dining room reading a book on probability.  
"Hey Janice honey, can we have the key?"  
"Have you stopped arguing?"  
"Sure, honey."  
"Uncle Cecil?  
"Hmm..."  
"Okay, here's what you have to do to get the key. You have to tell me what you were arguing about, talk to each other properly, you know, taking turns to talk, listening to each other, all that grown up stuff, come to an agreement and tell me what you decided. Okay?"  
"Janice, if you don't give me the key I will..."  
"You'll what, dad? Ground me? Please! Stop my pocket money? Okay! Whatever! Just... STOP THIS STUPID ARGUING!"

Steve rolled his eyes and laughed.  
"We were arguing about which of us is the better citizen."  
"Seriously? Uncle Cecil?"  
"Yes, that's what we argued about."  
"Sort it out then. Somewhere else. I want peace to read."

They went back outside.  
"Cecil, do you think either of us could drive? I've got bolt cutters at home."  
"And leave Janice here on her own? Don't be a jerk."  
"I could call someone."  
"Don't you dare! This is so embarrassing!"  
Steve shrugged. "I'm a dad. I'm supposed to be embarrassing. You're the cool uncle."  
"Janice thinks I'm cool?"  
"Yes! She talks about you and her Uncle Carlos a lot. She loves that he's so clever but always took time to teach her things she doesn't get at school. She misses him, you know. She loves that you listen to her stories and join in her make believe games and you never treat her like a little girl."

Cecil was quiet.  
"Huh. I have no idea how to treat someone like a little girl. I don't even know what that means. I treat her like a person."  
"I guess that's a good thing. Apparently I do it all the time, whenever I tell her off or ask her to do anything she doesn't like. You never have to do that."  
They were quiet again.  
"You're.. um.. You're a g... I guess you're a... hmm... a good dad."  
"Thanks, buddy! It means a lot hearing that from you."  
"Hmm."  
Steve rattled the handcuffs.  
"Uh, just where did Janice find these?"

Cecil groaned. "They were hidden inside a boring book on the top shelf of the bookcase. I forgot about them, it's been so long since..."  
"Whoa, okay. She's gonna have some difficult questions for me later."  
"Oh? Like?"  
"Well, she's a teenager, and she wants to know.. _stuff._ I don't always know how to answer her questions."  
"Oh. You could try just telling her the truth? Better she finds _stuff_ out from someone she trusts than... suddenly finding she needs to know _stuff_ and doesn't."  
"I get scared, Cecil, she's my little girl but she's not any more, not really. Soon she'll be dating and ugh, I can't even think about it. I want to keep her safe."  
"You can't."  
"I'm her dad! It's my job to protect her."

"Steve, she's growing up. She has to learn to protect herself. Not just from the things you worry about, but from the things I worry about too. You know, the... umm... and the... thing... and... you know. She has to learn to be a model citizen."  
"She has to learn to think for herself!"  
"She has to learn to look like she doesn't!"  
"Cecil, how is she going to get by believing all those things you tell her?"  
"She doesn't believe it," Cecil looked around carefully and whispered, "...any more than I do."  
"What?"  
"But she's got you convinced pretty good, right?"  
"Are you teaching my little girl to lie?"  
"I'm teaching my young-but-growing-up-fast niece to stay out of trouble."

"Cecil, We need to get out of these handcuffs."  
"I agree with that."  
"So we agree on two things?"  
"What's the other thing?"  
"That we love Janice and want her to be equipped to look after herself in this community? It's just that we disagree on how best to achieve that."  
"I guess that's true."  
They went indoors to find Janice. Cecil ushered Steve through the door first.

"Janice, honey? We sorted it out."  
"Tell me what you agreed. I estimated there was only about a thirty-three percent probability that you would find something to agree. Uncle Cecil? You tell me first."  
"Okay, we agreed that we both love you and want to keep you safe."  
"Huh. Dad?"  
"It's true, but we still disagree on how to do that."  
"Huh. Do I get a say?"  
"Sure, honey."  
"How about I decide what's best for me? Dad, you tell me to look and question so I can see and understand what's happening in Night Vale and I need that. I need to know where the black sedans go and what the blue helicopters are looking for and why people sometimes disappear for a couple of days and reappear with bandages and scars. Uncle Cecil, you tell me when I have to look like I don't know anything, who I can and can't talk to openly and what about. You explained what reeducation is and how to avoid it by looking dumb but being smart. You tell me stories that sound innocent and are not. I need both of you."

Janice unlocked the handcuffs and gave them back to Cecil, who put them away.  
"Don't make me have to do anything like that again."  
Cecil laughed. Steve frowned.  
"Okay honey, go get in the car. You are so grounded for that."  
Janice held up the book she was studying and Cecil nodded. She stuffed it down the side of her chair and wheeled herself out.  
"Be seeing you, Cecil."  
"I still think you're a jerk, Steve."  
"I know. That's okay."

 

[Talk Talk](http://youtu.be/6hHnOBlwU3A)


	14. Stripped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trope: stripper
> 
> Marcus takes Hiram to a strip club for a business meeting. Jake has to arrange it and make sure that Hiram and his new PA are suitably entertained.

"Sir? It's an unusual venue for a business meeting. Are you sure?"  
"Yes, and don't question me. I have reasons."  
"Okay. Sorry, sir. I'll organise it now."  
"Of course you will. Make sure we get a private room and a reserved table. This client is quite demanding. He's going to need plenty of attention."  
"Oh. I see, I think. Should I book some dancers?"  
"Yes, book a few different ones. I don't know what he likes."  
Marcus waited until Jake had his hand on the door handle, and smiled.  
"You can book one for yourself for after the meeting, if you're into that, or _whatever."_

Jake ignored that comment. He looked at the name of the club Marcus said to book, _Dragonflies._ It was new, one of Marcus's recent forays into the entertainment industry. Jake knew from its accounts that it was not yet turning a profit and needed a boost. Holding meetings there with high profile clients was a form of advertising. Jake called the club manager and gave a detailed list of requirements for the meeting before calling the client's PA.  
Jake thought the PA's voice sounded familiar but he couldn't place it.  
"Hi, Jake here, Mr Vansten's assistant. All set for the meeting?"  
"Of course."  
"Great! Uh, are you new? You sound familiar somehow but I remember last time I dealt with Mr McDaniels I spoke to someone called Sheena."  
The other voice laughed and gave Jake's memory another jolt.  
"Yes! Yes, I am new. I've been Mr McDaniel's assistant for a month."  
"How are you finding it?"  
"Dangerous. I think Sheena left because of the accidental burns but I don't mind, I have good reflexes."

Jake was at the club early to make sure everything was set up exactly as Marcus demanded. He insisted on having all the lights turned up so that he could check the club was clean and tidy and the bar was spotless, the private room was large enough for Mr McDaniels and there were no hidden recording devices. After an hour, Jake was satisfied and texted Marcus.  
 _Club ready now, sir._  
 _whatever, double check champagne_  
 _plenty chilled, extra strength fireproof flutes ready_  
 _ok_  
Jake waited for the group to arrive. He watched as the dancers swanned in, picked out the ones he thought Marcus might show interest in and asked for them to be assigned to their party.

Marcus arrived with Hiram and his assistant. Jake stared and stifled a giggle. The dragon's assistant grinned and winked.  
"This way, Hiram. Jake, bring champagne and eight glasses."  
Marcus led Hiram and his assistant into the private room for discussions. Jake signalled for the first two bottles of champagne to be delivered to their room and followed behind Hiram's assistant. He leaned forwards and whispered.  
"Another new job, Earl? I thought I recognised your voice!"  
"You didn't call. I wrote my fucking number on your foot! Can you not see that far?"  
"I was embarrassed about calling you Ma... the wrong name."  
"Ha!"  
The drinks arrived. Jake poured for everyone. Hiram downed five glasses in as many seconds and clinked his glasses down for refilling.

Marcus and Hiram discussed business insurance deals for Marcus's many properties while Jake and Earl took notes and tried not to distract each other. The two businessmen drank their way through more champagne while Jake and Earl sipped at theirs. Eventually the business was complete, Marcus and Hiram shook hands and they retired to the main section of the club for the floorshow. Jake arranged for the private room to be reorganised for private dances if Hiram or Marcus wanted it.

Hiram mainly drank champagne and let his eyes wander around the room. He paid little attention to the floorshow. Earl asked if he needed anything, then if he wanted anything, until Violet head told him to keep bringing champagne and make sure he got home okay.  
Marcus made a show of enjoying the exotic dancers remove clothing, wiggle and grind, crawl and pose. Earl motioned at Jake and they made separate excuses to leave the table. They met at the bar. Earl punched Jake lightly on the shoulder.  
"I bet Mr McDaniels would like a couple of dancers, Do you know any who could cope? He would never admit to liking humans other than as... well."  
Jake nodded. "Yeah, I know just the pair. They do this joint dance, it's... athletic. We could get someone to keep Ma.. Mr Vansten busy for a while too."  
"You sure you wouldn't rather do that yourself? You could be a _very_ personal assistant."  
"He's my boss. Off limits. Completely."  
"Bet he wouldn't mind."  
"Okay, let's see if we can arrange some private entertainment for our bosses."

Jake and Earl watched, grinning, as Marcus and Hiram were led off to their private room. Jake sent in another three bottles of champagne.  
"I would love to see what's going on in there."  
"You sure, Jake?"  
"Actually, no. Want to watch the next show? The dancer is quite good. I think you'll like him."  
Jake and Earl sat at their table and watched as a slim, toned and oiled figure gyrated on stage. Jake spoke to their waitress and a few minutes after the dance ended, the dancer, now dressed in a skimpy version of the Sheriff's Secret Police uniform, joined them. Jake slipped him a few notes and he took Earl's hand and pulled him up. Earl laughed.  
"Him as well. Come on!"  
The dancer took Jake's hand too and led them to their private room.  
They met Hiram's pair and Marcus's dancer coming out. They made shushing noises.  
 _"Those two have had so much champagne they're unconscious. Jake, we still get paid, right?"_  
Jake grinned and nodded. "Cash, in envelopes in the bar till."

Marcus was asleep on a couch. Jake checked that he was okay and turned him onto his side, partly for safety in case he was sick and partly so that he faced away from the room. Hiram's five heads were slumped on the table, Grey snoring gently and Green occasionally belching flames. His tail flicked gently.  
"He'll be out for hours. Spirits he can hold, but champagne goes to his heads real quick. But we ought to be quiet just in case."  
Their dancer sat them down opposite each other, knees almost touching.  
"You know the rules, Jake? You can take your nice suits off if you want, I'm still oily from the floor show. No touching. First offence, I make you sit on your hands, second offence I slap you, third offence I walk out. My name is... oh what would you like me to be called tonight?"  
Earl grinned, whispered _Marcus!_ , removed his suit jacket and trousers and sat on his hands. The dancer laughed. Jake scowled at Earl, took his suit off too and sat down. "Marcus" dimmed the lights further, sashayed over to the music player, turned the volume down, selected a track and pressed "play".

"Marcus" stood between Jake and Earl, legs apart to straddle their knees, facing Jake. He leaned over Jake, hands on the back of Jake's chair behind his shoulders and invited him to unfasten the buttons of his jacket. Jake obliged while "Marcus" wiggled his butt at Earl. Earl laughed.  
"What's funny?"  
"Marcus" turned to face Earl, leaning over him so that his jacket flapped open to reveal a smooth chest with well defined muscles. Earl grinned and stared. "Marcus" stood bolt upright, swivelled to glare at Jake.  
"One. Sit on your hands."  
"Sorry. You have a nice ass."  
"I know. Your friend here is going to help me show it off."  
"Marcus" thrust his pelvis forwards at Earl.  
"Want to help with my pants?"  
"I'm sitting on my hands."  
"Use something else."  
Earl snorted and pulled at "Marcus's" fastenings with his teeth.

"Marcus" shimmied and his pants fell partway down his hips. He shrugged and his jacket fell partway down his arms. He swayed with the music and slowly pulled off the jacket, dropping it beside Earl's chair. He leaned over Earl.  
"Mmmm. Someone's paying attention."  
He stepped aside and gyrated his hips out of his pants so that they fell to the floor, kicked them out of the way. He stood between his clients again, facing Jake.  
"I think you like what you see."  
"Uh-huh. You seem to be enjoying yourself too." Jake stared at "Marcus's" shorts, or rather at the flimsy, straining fabric.  
"You're my last clients tonight."  
"Marcus" straddled Jake's lap, grinding against him. He leaned backwards against Earl, head in his lap, legs gripping around Jake, and looked up.  
"So if you want me to come for you, I can do that."

Jake snorted. "Does that cost extra?"  
"Of course!"  
"Don't be hasty, Jake, why deny a poor dancer some fun and a bonus?"  
"Earl! The dancers are not supposed to..."  
"Oh loosen up."  
"Earl, when I met you at Josie's that night you were a shy, nervous barista. What the fuck happened?"  
Earl grinned. "I met this really hot PA who drives me crazy and never, _ever,_ calls me back."  
"Oh _fuck_ that move's definitely against the rules!"  
"Marcus" laughed at Jake's expression.  
"You gonna fire me?"  
"Hell, no!" 

Jake groaned as "Marcus" stopped grinding against his crotch and swapped position to pay more attention to Earl. Earl sat with his eyes closed and a smile on his face as "Marcus" writhed in his lap.  
"Ow! Sorry. My hand slipped."  
"Yeah, right. One more and I walk."  
"Earl! Play nice. It's not that sort of club."  
"Jake, you were right."  
"What?"  
"He has a very nice ass."  
"Marcus" rolled his eyes and waited for the track to end.

"Marcus" picked up his costume and left with his shorts halfway down his ass and two pairs of hungry eyes on him. He grinned and waved goodbye to two more unsatisfied customers.  
Earl and Jake looked at each other then looked around at Marcus and Hiram, who were still out.  
"You think, Earl, if we were real quiet..."  
Earl moved to straddle Jake on his chair and they kissed hard. Jake moaned.  
"I am such a fucking idiot."  
"Oh?"  
"For not calling you. Fuck, I want this!"

Marcus shifted and clutched his head, desperate for a glass of water. He turned around carefully, stomach rebelling slightly against the alcohol. He took in two sights:  
A five-headed dragon utterly unconscious on the table.  
Jake, on the floor, bent over Earl, eyes closed, head moving in sync as Earl came with a series of quiet gasps.  
He closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep.  
 _"Sshhh! Is he awake? He's moved?"_  
 _"Nah, he's still out. C'mere."_  
 _"Better make it quick, just in case."_  
Marcus watched through half-closed eyelids as Earl pulled Jake upright, knelt in front of him, placed his hands on Jake's ass, took his erect cock into his mouth and started moving his head beautifully slowly so that Jake threw his head back, stifled a moan with one fist and wove the fingers of his other hand in Earl's hair.

Marcus could barely take his eyes off Jake. The other figure he knew, he had traced those scars with his fingers once. Marcus sighed.

They seemed to have moved on from each other to want the same [beautiful](http://youtu.be/kX7XMwBVZ6c) person.


	15. Innuendo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trope: Office Romance
> 
> Marcus oversteps Jake's limit.

Jake was not surprised when Marcus was not at his desk in the inner office at eight the day after his meeting with McDaniels. He placed a bottle of electrolyte replacement energy drink, some indigestion tablets and a pack of paracetamol on Marcus's desk, next to the insurance documents he had to sign. He went back to his desk in the outer office and started on the pile of paperwork that always grew when he wasn't looking.  
He sorted it into order according to how long each task would take and started with the shortest. By the time Marcus arrived and asked what he had been doing he wanted to have a reasonably long list of completed tasks.  
Ten o'clock came and Marcus was still absent from his desk. Jake worked quietly and efficiently until a text arrived.  
 _Come and get me, McD's house_  
Jake called for a car, texted _on my way,_ gathered up the hangover remedies he brought and drove to collect Marcus.

Marcus looked terrible. His suit was crumpled, his hair unkempt, his normally smooth chin rough with stubble and his face showing tiredness around the eyes. Jake chose his brightest, breeziest demeanour.  
"Good morning sir!"  
"Ugh. Fuck off."  
"Didn't you go home? I told the cab driver to take you home last night. This morning, technically."  
"Hiram woke up in the cab and suggested we had more drinks. It seemed like a good idea at the time."  
Jake held the car door open for Marcus. Marcus sank onto the back seat.  
"What's the bag?"  
"Just a few things I thought you might want, sir."  
Marcus peered into the bag. He gulped down some of the electrolyte drink to chase the paracetamol into his system.  
"Just for that, Jake, you may call me Marcus. When there's nobody around. Or whatever."

Jake drove Marcus home, careful to avoid potholes and sharp turns. He helped Marcus indoors.  
"Heh. Come in, wait while I get ready. I might need help."  
"Sir? Are you sure you should be going to work today?"  
"I said call me Marcus. I'm self-employed, if I don't go to work I lose money."  
"I can cover for you for a day. You know, field calls and make plausible excuses. Even a few hours rest will make you feel better, sir."  
"You really don't want to use my first name, do you?"  
"It feels weird. I'm more comfortable with sir or Mr Vansten. If that's okay."  
"Huh. Whatever. You had a good time last night."  
"What? Uh, yes, thanks for asking."  
Marcus grinned at Jake. "I was stating a fact."  
Jake felt his stomach turn and his neck burn as heat rose to flush his face. He excused himself and left the room, pacing Marcus's hallway, mentally composing an apology.

Marcus felt awful. Part was the hangover which made him feel like the right side of his skull wanted to crack open to relieve the pressure inside and his tongue felt like a rat had slept in his open mouth. He stood under the hottest shower he could bear as the paracetamol and electrolytes got to work.  
Once out of the shower, shaved and teeth brushed twice, Marcus poked his head out of his room. Jake stood a few feet away.  
"Gimme a minute then come back in."  
Marcus put a fresh robe on loosely before Jake appeared.  
"Sir, about last night, what you saw..."  
Marcus waved a hand. "Whatever. I need to ask you this for business reasons. What's your relationship with Hiram's assistant?"  
"We don't have a relationship, sir. We've hooked up three times since we met the day before you gave me this job."  
"Heh. I wondered if you'd gotten help with your interview technique. So when you said you picked up your barista, that was Earl?"  
Jake nodded.

Marcus got dressed for work, which didn't take long as all he did was tighten the belt on his robe and slip on a pair of sandals and a gold chain.  
"Sunglasses, sir?"  
"Thanks."  
"Are you sure you want to go to the office?"  
"I can't hold meetings here."  
"You don't have meetings today. When I saw how... um... well. I cleared your diary and rescheduled today's meetings, sir."  
"Oh? In that case you and I have time for a chat. In the office."

Jake drove Marcus to work and dropped him off at the front so that he could make an entrance before taking the car back to the company garage under the building and getting the staff elevator up to his office. As he passed reception, Mhairi gave him a theatrical wink and waved him over.  
"Hear you had fun last night."  
"Shit, does everybody know?"  
Mhairi leaned forward, "good dancer, was he?"  
Jake laughed in relief. "Very good. Made us an offer we almost didn't refuse."  
Mhairi caught Jake's tie and held him at her counter. "Us? You don't mean you and Marcus, do you. Who else was there?"  
"The other PA. Man called Earl."  
Mhairi almost shrieked, then hissed. "EARL HARLAN? Oh sweet concentric bloodstone circles. He worked for Marcus for about a month, not long before you. He left when... "  
Mhairi let go and Jake stood upright. Marcus cleared his throat.

"Sit there." Marcus pointed to the office sofa. Jake sat, his knees uncomfortably high and his back at the wrong angle. Marcus sat in an armchair opposite across the glass topped coffee table with disconcertingly bone-like frame.  
"Has Earl mentioned anything to you? About me?"  
"Apart from some advice on how to handle the interview, no."  
"Huh."  
Jake fidgeted. He itched to ask his own questions.  
"What did Mhairi tell you?"  
"Nothing."  
"Jake, if you lie to me you can leave. I need to be able to trust you."  
Jake sighed and shifted in a vain attempt to sit upright.  
"She said that Earl used to work for you but he left."  
"Anything else?"  
"No, that's when you came out to remind me I should be in here."

"Huh."  
"Can I ask you something?"  
"Sure. Whatever."  
"Why do so many people assume I'm fucking you?"  
Marcus choked out a laugh.  
"Because Earl was. Earl officially left because of his scoutleader commitments but I wasn't his type, his heart wasn't in it. Only his...."  
"Really?" Jake blushed for the second time and looked away, hoping Marcus hadn't heard the hint of interest in his tone.  
Marcus smiled.

"Okay, I can see you're uncomfortable. Want to move?"  
Jake nodded and stood up. Marcus sat back in his chair, arms on the arm rests.  
"Where you wanna sit?"  
Jake didn't dare make eye contact, didn't dare acknowledge the invitation. He stared past Marcus's shoulder.  
"At my desk, sir?"  
Marcus laughed. "Whatever, up to you. If you change your mind I'm..."  
"Marcus, at my interview I thought I made it clear that I wouldn't... If you want to hire someone else I'll resign. I don't want to have to find another job but..."  
"Is it really hard...?"  
Marcus laughed at Jake's horrified expression.  
"...to use my name?"

Jake stormed out of Marcus's office, through his own and into the foyer where Mhairi lay in wait.  
"Tiff?"  
"Ugh. I need a moment."  
"Go back in, I'll bring coffee."  
Jake sighed. "Thanks, but I need fresh air."  
"You're quite alike, you know."  
"Mhairi, how the fuck can you think that?"  
"You've got similar taste in scoutmasters."

Jake went out of the building and scrolled through his contact list. He found the number he had saved but never used.  
 _Hi it's Jake. U free to talk?_  
 _You calling me at last? Business or pleasure?_  
 _Kinda both._  
 _This about MV?_  
 _Y_  
 _I kiss but I never tell!_  
 _Just one question. Will he fire me if I don't fuck him?_

Jake's phone rang in his hand.  
"Earl? Thanks for calling."  
"Jake, you're an idiot. You've worked for Marcus for, what, nine, ten months? You're not fucking him and he's not replaced you. I did and I regretted it. What does that tell you?"  
"I guess I can say no and keep my job."  
"I don't see your problem. You like him, that's ego-crushingly obvious to me. Why not do it?"  
"Because... because I have a stupid infatuation that might vanish at any moment. Because I don't know if he's just playing with me. I don't want to end up humped and dumped like..."  
"...like I was? Nice. Call me later, Hiram's five separate shades of shit when he's hungover and now three heads are hollering all at once."

Jake returned to his desk. There was a note on it from Marcus.  
 _Come see me at your earliest convenience._  
Jake walked into Marcus's office without knocking and sat in the chair opposite his desk. Marcus looked up from his phone call.  
"Yeah, that's right, I want my assistant's salary raised by ten percent backdated to the start of the month and bring up the keys, hold on..." Marcus looked up at Jake again. "You like cars, right?" Jake nodded, eyebrows raised and mouth slightly open. Marcus smiled and returned to his phone call. "That's right, the Porsche. Sort out the insurance with McDaniels."  
Marcus hung up and looked at Jake for a moment.  
"An apology. Please don't resign. You're a good assistant and I like you."  
Jake frowned.  
"I mean I like having you around."

Jake sighed, "what _ever!"_ and Marcus flashed him a genuine smile, Jake noticed the way his face crinkled around his eyes and his eyebrows lifted as his lips formed a lopsided grin. To Jake, it looked like Marcus finally let a little of himself slip under his guard.  
"Okay, back to work. You're driving me home in your new car later. Take it for a spin now to get used to it." Marcus waited until Jake's hand was on the door handle. "Don't wanna blow your turbo."  
Jake paused without turning, the [innuendo](http://youtu.be/g2N0TkfrQhY) heating his cheeks and neck again. "Don't worry sir, I know how to handle a stick shift."  
"Make sure your nuts aren't loose."  
"Do you intend to ride with me every day, sir?"  
Marcus snorted. Jake glanced back to see Marcus's real smile again. He grinned in return.  
"Thanks for the car."  
"Let me know when you're ready to give me a..."  
 _"Mr Vansten!"_  
"...copy of my rescheduled appointments."


	16. Feels Like Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trope: Seven Minutes in Heaven  
> Teenaged Cecil & Earl
> 
> They go to the school party as friends. Will they be friends when they leave?

"Cecil! Come _ON!"_ Earl yelled up at his friend's window again. "You MUST be ready by now!"  
"Nearly! Hang on..." Cecil's voice floated down. A few minutes later the front door squeaked open and clattered closed and Cecil posed on the porch. "Whadda ya think?"  
Earl laughed. "Perfect. Let's go." He held out his arm. Cecil looped his arm through Earl's and they pulled each other down the footpath, chatting and giggling about the school party, their evening's chosen entertainment.  
"Hey Earl, you gonna ask her to dance?"  
"What! Who?"  
"Lucy."  
"Uh, no way!"  
"You stare at her in Rewritten History lessons. I think you like her."  
Cecil darted away and Earl chased after him, deliberately not quite catching up until they were almost there. At the last corner the boys slowed to a walk, ran fingers through hair, smoothed out clothing, checked each other up and down and grinned.

Earl and Cecil surrendered their tickets, submitted to a quick frisk for alcohol from the prefects, apologised for not having brought any for the seniors' after-party and entered the school hall. The walls were decorated in keeping with the theme of the event, _Aliens Live Among Us!_ , and the boys gasped and laughed at the cardboard models and murals depicting the establishment of the alien reptilian overlords in their place at the top of the food chain. Cecil poked Earl's ribs.  
"Oh, there's Lucy! Go say hello."  
"No!"  
"Suit yourself. HI LUCY!" Cecil waved and Earl walked away. Lucy waved back and smiled.

Everyone agreed the music was not what they expected. Lucy offered an explanation.  
"This party is to raise money for the prom, right? Hannah said the prom committee didn't want to spend money on a deejay. They got Louie's band to play instead. They've only been together long enough to learn about a half dozen songs."  
Earl came back gripping plastic cups of store brand cola. Cecil took them all. Earl frowned at him.  
"Hey, Lucy? Earl wants to dance with you."  
"Cecil!"  
"Oh? Okay."  
Lucy pulled a blushing Earl to the dance floor as Cecil giggled.

Lucy came back after one dance because the music turned slow and Earl muttered an excuse about having to see someone about something.  
"Cecil, wanna dance?"  
"Nah, not my thing. Not brought a date?"  
"No. Did you?"  
"No. I came with Earl."  
"Uh-huh."  
"We're not dating. Friends. Like you and Sarah."  
"Uh... _Huh!"_  
"What are you looking smug about now?"

Earl returned but Lucy had gone to find Sarah. "The seniors say they're organising party games because we're all bored with hearing the same songs over and over. Wanna play?"  
"Sure, why not."  
"Twister?"  
"Ugh, no, I don't want to be rubbing up against..."  
"Oh-kay! I get it! Spin the bottle?"  
"Kissing in front of everyone? No way!" Cecil made vomit noises.  
"Seven minutes?" Earl waited to hear Cecil's excuse for not playing, but he shrugged and nodded.

Hannah corralled the young participants in a corner of the hall and made them write their names on slips of paper, scrunch them up and put them in a tub. The students sat around, chatting or quiet, as Hannah counted.  
"OK, odd number. Last one pairs with me unless someone else joins in. First couple is...." Hannah made a show of screwing her eyes closed and rummaging in the box. "Earl and….” She held the tub out to Earl. “Shut your eyes and take one, don’t look at it.” Earl grinned, covered his eyes and picked a paper ball. He handed it to Hannah without looking. “Aaaaand Earl has picked… Cecil! Up you both get.”

Hannah led the boys out of the hall to the cupboard in the corridor. She opened the door. “Watches?” Earl and Cecil both shook their heads. “Okay, I’ll bang on the door when seven minutes is up.” Hannah clicked the stopwatch borrowed from PE and closed the door. She went back to the hall.  
Lucy was frowning. “Hey, Han, Earl didn’t pick Cecil. Look!” She held out the wrinkled slip of paper with _Leann_ written on it. “I checked, Cecil’s name is still in the tub!”  
Hannah grinned. “Yeah. Oops. Better put Leann back in.”  
“Hannah! That’s cheating!”  
“Don’t you want those two to have some privacy?” Hannah winked.  
Lucy squealed and Leann giggled.

It was not completely dark in the cupboard. A little light leaked in around the door frame and the boys’ eyes adjusted gradually. The band started playing again and muffled music reached them.  
“What do we do for seven minutes?”  
“Have you never played this before, Cecil?”  
“No.”  
“Oh! We can do whatever we like and nobody is allowed to ask.”  
“Oh? What did you do last time you played?”  
“You’re not allowed to ask!”  
Cecil giggled. “I bet you talked about scouting stuff and taught whoever it was how to tie knots in the dark.”

Earl laughed. “We just chatted. It was at my cousin’s birthday and I was paired with someone I didn’t know. I think she was bored.”  
Cecil snorted. “So, you don't wanna _bore_ Lucy?”  
“Cecil!”  
Both boys giggled. Earl was glad of the darkness that hid his glowing embarrassment. They stood facing each other, so close together Earl was sure Cecil must feel the heat.  
“So why don’t you ask Lucy out?”  
“Uh, I like her and she’s really pretty and smart but I just want to be friends with her.”  
“Oh. Yeah, she's real nice.”  
Earl felt his hands sweat and he locked his knees. “I, um, kinda like someone else. But I don’t know how to find out if they like me like that.”

“You kept that quiet! Earl! Who is it? Maybe I can find out for you. Subtle questioning. You know.”  
“No! No, I’m not telling.”  
“How long have you been hiding this from me?”  
“Can we talk about something else?”  
“Sure, but if you want to tell me anything, anything at all, I promise not to say a word. We’re friends, okay?”  
Earl wondered how much of the seven minutes was left as his stomach churned, his head buzzed, tears of panic threatened to spill.  
“Cecil, what if I told you something that made you hate me?”  
Cecil threw his arms around Earl and hugged him. “That’s not possible!”

Earl muttered _thanks_ and hugged Cecil back. Still holding on to each other, Cecil asked again.  
“I couldn’t ever hate you because of who you like. Liking someone is a good thing, right? Whoever they are.”  
“Yeah. I guess.”  
“If you’re not ready to tell me, that’s okay.”  
“If this person didn’t like me back the same way I’d wish I hadn’t told them.”  
“I like someone too but I don’t think they’ve noticed.”  
“Oh.” Earl sighed. “You kept that quiet too.”  
“Yeah. Too quiet I guess. I should learn to say how I feel, upfront, you know? It’s hard, but it would save any misunderstandings.” Cecil took a deep breath and looked at Earl’s glistening eyes in the dim light. “So, is it someone you've known for a while?”  
Earl nodded. "Forever. I can't remember not knowing them."

"What is it about them you like?"  
"I dunno. They're kind and clever but in a kinda weird way that makes me think. They always make me laugh when I'm down. It's just recent that things changed."  
"Things like feelings?"  
"Yeah, that. I don't want to fall out with them because it makes them feel awkward."  
"I know what you mean. Earl, it might not be a problem."  
Earl saw Cecil's smile. He removed one of his arms from around Cecil's shoulders and stroked his friend's hair, leaned in to kiss him just as the door banged and Hannah yelled, "Time up!".  
They grinned silently for a few seconds, leaning against each other.  
"We have to go out. Shame, [feels like heaven](http://youtu.be/3GUMBIxkdvU) in here."

 


	17. Meeting the Management

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecil has to grovel before Station Management. He really, _really,_ doesn't want to.
> 
> (This chapter was supposed to be Noble/Peasant AU but nothing I tried worked).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled with this AU. I started about three versions including a Lady Maureen/Between-maid Dana Downton-esque fic but I didn't like the result. Others do it better!
> 
> _must try harder_

Cecil waited until he safely reached the familiar surroundings of his soundproofed booth before he read the letter that shot out from under the door of Station Management's office as he tiptoed past the snarling, the flashing lights and the smoke.  
He sat back in his chair, holding the plain buff envelope with his name inscribed on the front in ornate style. He put it on the desk, closed his eyes for a moment, breathed deeply. He jumped as an intern came in and placed a mug of coffee in front of him. The intern took a look at the envelope and retreated in silence.  
Cecil sipped his hot coffee and placed the mug carefully out of reach. He lifted the envelope, opened it and read the letter inside. He let it flutter to the floor and stood, staring without seeing, until the intern came back to clear away the cold coffee mug.

"Mr Palmer, you okay?"  
Cecil shook his head then his shoulders, rubbed his arms and sat on the floor as his legs folded underneath him.  
"What time is it?"  
"Three-thirty."  
"Then I must be okay. My scheduled meeting with Station Management started twenty minutes ago and I'm still alive and..." Cecil patted his limbs and his ribs, carefully felt his neck and head. "I appear to be unhurt."  
"Um, Mr Palmer, sir?"  
Cecil turned on a bright smile. "It must have gone really well!"

Cecil peered at the intern. "Still here? Interns rarely spend time here. What's your name?"  
"Chad, sir."  
"Are you new?"  
"Yessir."  
"Then _welcome... to NVCR!_ Seriously, call me Cecil. And help me up."  
Chad held out both hands to Cecil and pulled him mostly upright.  
"Got a job for you, Intern Chad. Go to Station Management and ask if my meeting went okay."  
Chad nodded, picked up the abandoned coffee mug and left the booth.

Cecil looked around the booth. He frowned and _hmm_ ed at the space under the desk, at the little recess behind the door and at the metal cabinet against the wall opposite his microphone. He first stood behind the door and pulled the door open, squashing himself into the triangular space. The door wouldn't quite open fully with him standing there.  
Next he opened the cabinet. Spare, retired recording equipment spilled out in a tangle of black and grey wires and silvery plugs. He knelt down and piled everything back in, holding the mess in position with one hand as he closed the door with the other, puling his hand out at the last minute and slamming the door against further egress of equipment.  
From his position kneeling on the floor, Cecil shuffled over to the desk. He pulled the chair out of the way and crawled under, turned to lie curled up and pulled the chair back into place.  
Intern Chad returned. He knocked and opened the door.  
"Cecil? They said... oh. Cecil? Huh."  
Chad left. Just before the door closed completely, Cecil heard Chad in the corridor asking, "Hey, have you seen Cecil?" He closed his eyes and drifted away.

Some time later, Cecil crawled out with difficulty because he was cold and his joints hurt. He hauled himself into the chair. There was a note on his desk.  
 _Found you but didn't want to disturb you. Station Management say they will see you at 6pm instead, Chad._  
Cecil groaned and thumped his forehead down on the desk. A hand tapped his shoulder, startling him. He sat up and pushed the chair back, turning to face his attacker. Chad stood by the desk, looking alarmed.  
"Cecil, it's ten to six. I came to see if you needed anything for your meeting."  
Cecil groaned and covered his face with his hands for a moment. He slid his fingers open, peering at the confused intern from behind.  
"You got any weapons? Alcohol?"  
Chad laughed and shook his head.  
"Not to spare, sir. How bad can it be?"

Cecil gritted his teeth and stood up. He walked through the maze of corridors that seemed more extensive than a building of this size should house. He reached the admin corridor. Station Management's door burst open and Farming News Guy staggered out clutching his new contract in one hand and his throat in the other. He wheezed a painful-sounding _Hi Cecil!_ before he collapsed face down. Intern Chad, following Cecil in case he needed anything, like encouragement with the cattle-prod Station Management provided for the purpose of facilitating the meeting, checked the prostrate farm reporter's breathing, smiled at Cecil and waved the prod.  
"Good luck, sir!"  
Cecil took in Chad's fighting stance, looked at the glowing office door and bolted. He was surprisingly fast now the walk had warmed up his muscles and loosened his stiff joints. Cecil pelted down the admin corridor with Chad on his heels. As he neared reception, Chad yelled.  
"STOPPIM!"  
Intern Leland darted out from behind reception and tackled Cecil to the floor, holding tight around his knees. Cecil growled and tried to kick. Chad dived on top and pinned him down by the arms.  
"Cecil, sir? Station Management were very clear that you are not to miss this meeting. If I can't persuade you to go in there, I lose my job. I can't afford to lose my job. Please, Mr Palmer, please just knock on the door and go in."  
Cecil went limp. Chad looked at Leland, who nodded. They both jumped up and stood guard between Cecil and the exit. Chad lifted the cattle prod and raised an eyebrow and pointed.  
"Sir? That way?"

Cecil stood at the door of Station Management's office again. He scowled at Chad and frowned at Leland. Chad lifted the prod and Leland prepared for another tackle. Cecil knocked on the door. The door opened with a slow creak and Cecil went inside. The door slammed shut. Chad and Leland stood for a moment, breathed loud sighs and relaxed.  
"Thanks Leland, thought I'd lost him for a moment."  
"Any time. Could've been much worse. Last month he hid by climbing up the radio mast and only came down because he forgot his sandwiches."

Cecil stood just inside the door and waited for his eyes to clear. He rubbed them, which didn't help, and blinked a few times rapidly, which did. The smoke machine and the flashing lights disorientated him. He stepped forward to the second door and knocked.  
"Come in, Cecil."  
The door opened and he went inside, sat on a chair that was pulled out for him. He coughed and something offered him a paper tissue.  
"Cecil, first of all thank you for attending this contract negotiation meeting."  
Cecil looked around but couldn't see the owner of the mellow, genderless voice. He could barely see anything in the gloom of the inner sanctum of Station Management.  
"Uh, okaaay."  
"We notice that you have been delivering material that is somewhat _off-message_ recently. for example, who is this scientist you talk about?"  
Cecil smiled. This was a subject he was happy to discuss.

Forty minutes later, Cecil noticed the interruptions from his employers. He smiled dreamily at the figures around the table. He could see them all now that his eyes had plenty of time to adjust to the dark. There was a tall figure with wings and extra arms. _Definitely not an angel because they are not real,_ thought Cecil, refusing to look.  
There was a woman in a black suit, wearing sunglasses despite the gloom. She did not speak out, but occasionally made notes into a microphone cunningly disguised as a carnation in her buttonhole.  
The white-eyed woman in the flowing cerulean robes looked serious. She told him to stick to City Council approved news topics and not announce the activities of unauthorised scientists to the community.  
The... the... Cecil wanted, really wanted, to think _reptilian alien overlord_ but that could not be correct. Surely they were extinct by now, it was so long since any reported sightings. The scaly creature with the forked tongue that darted out of its mouth every few seconds and the tiny, polished ebony eyes, tapped the table with a claw and told Cecil his contract was to be renewed but with conditions pertaining to a certain scientist. Like, not talking so much about him.  
Cecil was about to protest when the door opened behind him and a man walked in. He heard a voice he wanted to obey.  
"Hey, sorry I'm late. Hi Cecil, you probably don't remember me. You never do. Good to see you again." The man hung his tan jacket over the back of a chair and sat down with his briefcase on the floor at his feet. Cecil thought he heard it buzz.  
The reptilian figure might have smiled, it was difficult to tell when so many teeth were involved. "Oh we are all here. Good. We can negotiate."

Intern Chad found Cecil curled up under his desk again at eight o'clock. He gently prodded tha radio host with a toe. Cecil shrank back as far as he could get, opened his eyes and sighed.  
"Oh, it's you. I was daydreaming about being rescued by... someone."  
Chad pulled the chair out of the way and offered a hand to Cecil.  
"You want to come out? You have a show tonight. I brought coffee and snacks."  
"Snacks?"  
Chad smiled. "Yes, imaginary corn puffs. Come out and eat something. Station... uh... You ought to eat something. And you got a letter."  
Cecil wriggled and crawled out from his refuge. "Thanks Chad." He sipped coffee and picked up the buff envelope with his name on it. Chad watched Cecil open the envelope and read the letter inside.  
"Good news! My contract has been renewed. Huh. Was there a meeting? Usually I'm summoned to a meeting but I don't think I've ever gone." Cecil closed his eyes. "I remember being in the corridor and you... No, no that's too silly. I must have dreamed it while I was asleep under my desk. Chad, do you ever have dreams that are so realistic you..."  
Chad grinned and steeped backwards out of the booth. "All the time, sir, umm, yeah I bet you had some weird dreams."

Cecil frowned at his coffee. It felt like a dream, yet he never felt pain in his dreams. The pain in his joints sometimes woke him up but that was different. He felt around his back and found a burn mark on his skin. He opened the door and called for Intern Chad.  
"Chad? I have a job for you. Can you go to that discount sports shop on Flint Drive and get me... get me a [tennis](http://youtu.be/MB2f6-U72Zk) racquet?"  
Chad nodded and left. Cecil sat back and smiled.


	18. Mirror mirror on the wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Orphan AU
> 
> Josie/Erikas/ Teenage Cecil 
> 
> The angels call Josie to investigate a new demon in town.  
> One that travels between dimensions using reflections.

The angels raised an alarm, they felt a ripple in their feathers, they said. Josie wasn't so sure.  
"Folks get up to all kinda things. It don't hafta mean there's a rogue demon new in town."  
The angels conferred silently. One was elected to speak by the simple but effective device of the others popping softly out of Josie's dimension.  
"Josie, we all feel it, even now. It was a sudden possession. The host did not consent, they fought, we do not know who has won. The human could be dead or dying. The demon too, or looking for another."  
"Erika, can it wait until Ah finish this bitta ma knittin?"  
The angel closed its eyes for a few seconds.  
"We think so. Is that Fair Isle? Is it for me?"

Josie tutted at her stitches and put the needles and yarn away with care.  
"Well now Ah can't concentrate for thinking about yer feathers. Suppose Ah oughta have a look. Erika, bring ma... oh."  
Erika draped Josie's coat around her shoulders despite the warmth of the evening. She left her house flanked by two angels, a third close behind as usual. She walked at a brisk pace, used to the weight of the bloodstones in her pockets and silver knife in her woven bag. She frowned.  
"Is it far?"  
"No, we can follow the ripples in this dimension from the attack. Erika will lead, if you permit?"  
"Go on Erika, show us whatcha can do."  
The angel with the fiery wings slipped past Josie and paced ahead, wings and arms fully extended. Josie watched and smiled. Erika opened a few eyes and smiled back.  
"I feel you think. You think I'd look pretty in a new sweater."

Erika walked along a quiet residential street and stopped outside a slightly dilapidated house with a yard that wanted attention and dust on the windows. They hummed quietly.  
"Josie, this is the house. It is inside."  
" _It_ the human or _It_ the demon?"  
Erika and Erika joiined Erika outside the house. They glided silently towards the front door, holding hands and touching wingtips.  
"We... Josie, we cannot tell."  
"Can't ya? Both then, or neither. Let's be neighbourly and call in."  
Josie walked up to the front door and knocked hard while Erika reached out a slender finger and pushed the doorbell.

There was no answer. Josie knocked again and Erika rang. Nothing. Josie pulled the screen and pushed at the door. It creaked open and she stepped inside.  
"Hello? Anybody... Oh!"  
Her eyes adjusted to the dim hallway. Josie saw a figure lying on the floor amidst shards of glass, a broken frame leaned against the wall.  
"Erika, clear this up." Erika motioned with arms and wings and the glass fragments slid to the corner. Josie crossed over to the figure and set about examining it for injuries.  
"Okay, no obvious blood, that's a relief. Pulse... yes. Breathing... yes. Hah! Whatever it is, it is alive. Erika, can you tell me anything more now?"  
The angel with petrel plumage touched the figure's forehead.  
"They are alive." Josie cocked an eyebrow and the angel spoke again. "Both of them."  
"Right, we got a new demon. We won't get much outa it until they're back with us in spirit as well as in body. Best take them home. Erika? The _special_ guest room. Can ya do that?"  
Two of the angels wrapped their arms and wings around the figure and around each other. Josie and Erika watched until all three figures faded to nothing with a quiet sigh.

Josie turned to the angel who remained with her. "Search the house. I want to know what happened here. That looked like a kid to me, there should be family."  
Josie started upstairs, Erika downstairs. They met on the landing.  
"Three bedrooms, looks like a parent's room that's been used but not for a coupla weeks and a girl's room that's kept perfect. Mebbe she lives away and visits. There's a boys' room wi' two singles and only one bed used. the other's heaped up wi' stuff, dirty clothes mostly. Found anything?"  
Erika held up a cassette recorder with a cassette still in it. Josie nodded.  
"We'll have a listen back at home. This house is creepy."  
Josie walked downstairs and through the living room to the kitchen.  
"Oh! Oh dear." Erika put arms around Josie as she choked out a sob. "Poor kid. Can you...?"  
Erika gathered all the filthy dishes and spoiling food into the middle of the floor, disturbing flies and maggots. The back door opened. Erika shoved it all into the yard, burned what would burn and buried the rest.

Erika took Josie home the easy way, with soft enveloping wings and reassurances. Josie forced her armour back on during the journey. She met the angels in her living room.  
"What are we dealing with, Erika?"  
"They are calm. The human appears to be unconscious, the demon trapped until its host wakes up."  
"That's somethin'. Ah can watch 'em, mebbe communicate directly with the demon trapped in there."  
"Josie, the safest action is to ki..."  
"Don't you dare, Erika, don't you even think it."  
Erika shrugged. Erika reached out, plucked a single yellow flight feather and wagged a finger at the angel who had made Josie scold them. Erika jumped and turned, spinning to try to see where the shameful feather gap was.

Josie and Erika listened to the cassette. Josie frowned.  
"Sounds like an attack from a dimension that relies on reflections." She shuddered. "Some of those can be nasty. Yer admiring yer outfit in the mirror one moment, next yer questioning yer height or yer weight or the size a yer nose or the shape a yer knees... Ugh. Ah hate those ones. So hurtful, they get right inside until they feel like a part of ya and every time ya believe 'em they get a bit stronger."  
Erika reached out a hand and stopped the cassette player.  
"Ah wanna try to talk to them, whoever they are." She grinned and tapped her temple, Erika shrank back at the sight. "They'll get an unholy fright if they try to find a home here."  
Josie and her angels went downstairs into the basement. Josie unlocked the door to her special guest room and entered.

The figure was out cold still. Erika propped him up on the pillows so that Josie could sit at eye level. Josie reached over and felt his forehead.  
"Warm but not a concern for now. Has he done anything other than breathe while ye've been watching?" Erika shook their head slowly. "Okay. Get ready to contain us both if this goes badly." Erika nodded and left the room, locking the door and placing a bloodstone in the last empty recess on the floor. Their wings vibrated rapidly and others joined in, joining hands to form a chain around the room that occupied most of the basement space.

Inside the room, Josie put both hands on the boy's face and opened his eyes. They stared out sightless and dull.  
"Come on, Ah know yer in there. Don't make me come in and get ya."  
There was no response. Josie let the boy's eyes close for a second then opened them again.  
"Y'know who Ah am? Y'know where ya are?"  
Josie watched, staring deep into black pupils. A pinpoint of violet glowed in each eye."  
"That's it, come on, don't be shy, now."  
The boy swallowed and took a breath in.  
 _Am I dead? Is this Hell?_

Josie laughed. "Not far off. This dimension is for the dispossessed. Do ya remember how ya got here?"  
 _I was in my host. There was a mirror, I was looking through at myself, reaching out to see if I could touch. I wanted to, I wanted to stroke his face. He had such beautiful eyes! Then I was looking back at him but it wasn't... I wanted to go home and when these eyes met mine I thought it was him. I jumped and... and... I didn't know him! I am HERE and it is NOT home._  
Josie let the boy's eyes close again and sat back.  
"Oh dear... poor thing... Y'know ya can't go home, dontcha?"  
The boy's head nodded slowly.  
"Did ya love yer host?"  
 _Of course! There is no other way to thrive. My host... did he.... did he cast me out? Why would he do that!_  
"Dunno, sweetheart. Might've. Did he know about ya? Did ya tell him?"  
 _Yes. I shone in his eyes and I spoke to him with his voice. I thought he loved me too. We had been each other's for so long, since he first gazed at his reflection and knew what it was._  
Josie sighed and rubbed her eyes. She went to the door and knocked for Erika to remove the barricades.  
"Okay Erika, we got two orphans to deal with."

The angels moved the boy and his new companion to the proper guest room upstairs and made him comfortable. Josie sat with him, Erika flitting around and fussing over the sleeping figure.  
"It's okay Erika, They both got a fright. Expect they're gettin to know one another a bit. Give 'em time and they'll wake up. Best if yer not here when they do."  
It didn't take long. Before dawn the boy shifted and rubbed his head, groaned and covered his eyes. Josie took his other hand and stroked the back of his hand and forearm.  
"Welcome back, Cecil, ye've had a rough night, gettin a [possession](http://youtu.be/hifmH5TyilE) neither of ya expected. But ya both gonna be fine."


	19. Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vampire AU
> 
> There's a hungry vampire in town who cares about his victims and keeps a pet.

He woke as usual with hunger gnawing and clawing from within. Had he dreamed through dinner? Had no-one thought to wake him? His eyes eased open, it was dark. It was always dark when he woke. His eyes grabbed every photon that impinged his retinas, some on the second pass from the tapetum lucida behind that reflected escapees back to capture by the densely packed rod cells. He blinked, stretched and yawned. In the mirror he could just make out the sharpness of his canines and incisors. His reflection was weak in the dimness but he recognised his own features behind the adaptations for hunting and stealth. His green-gold eyes, his white teeth, his nose that twitched when it scented prey.

He slipped from his resting place to the floor and peered around his door. The passageway was empty. He listened, sensitive ears picked up no sound of human occupancy, only mains hum buzzing in his cochlea and the clicks, creaks and groans of the building settling into slumber. He stalked into the corridor, down the hall to the front door. It was closed and locked with the alarm activated. He stood on alert for a moment then went back down the deserted passage to a room at the back. He walked around the edge of the room where a path free of furniture led to a window he knew never latched. He jumped with light feet onto the counter, pushed open the window and dropped down to the ground outside.

He stood, waiting for any sign that he had been seen. He walked alongside the wall, keeping to the shadows. The moon was up and cast an eerie glow over the midnight town. He paused at the corner, checking this way and that for danger. Nothing. His stomach growled. When did he last eat properly? He could not remember, it could have been days or weeks since his last meal. Not sham food that tasted of dust and filled without satisfaction, a proper meal. The substance he craved.

Blood.

He could smell it. His nose twitched and his head turned to look for the source of the sweet, metallic tang in the air. There! A figure walking with awkward gait, hand trailing against the wall of the building, head down. His ears picked up the man's muttering and he detected a different scent on top of the blood as the figure approached. Bad. He knew if he feasted here he would regret it with a raging thirst and a pain behind his eyes. He shrank back out of sight and waited for the drunk to pass.

Safe. He slipped from his shadow and darted across the empty street. He knew a good place to find food. Somewhere people were not hostile. He passed silently by the closed shops and open bars, snuck unseen alongside shiny office blocks and slunk around the back of the store to the vacant lot behind.

He saw the people before they saw him. _Hey there fellow! You again!_ He sauntered over, feeling smug confidence overthrow the desperation for warm food. _Come join us, we'll keep each other warm, won't we?_ He jumped down into the hole in the ground. He counted, only three tonight. It was enough. All he had to do was stay friendly and wait.

Four bodies, three warm and one cooler, snuggled together. Three asleep, one awake and alert, eyes closed in pretence but ears very much at work. He detected three patterns of regular deep breathing. Three types of snore. Three slowing heartbeats. He shifted slowly out from the embrace that pinned him against a chest that rose and fell evenly. He chose the one who had their head on the shoulder of another, neck exposed. This bit was tricky, at first his donors would wake up because he tickled them or was too harsh and caused pain. He looked for the telltale throb under the skin indicating the position of the artery. He moved up close, breathing on the woman's neck, ready to plead innocence or bolt. Nothing. She was deep in dreams of her own. He licked anaesthetic onto her skin and waited.

He checked again that they were asleep before feeding. Once he started, his donors would not wake up for hours. He took a little from each, so little they might wonder about the itch from the bite but would not feel the loss of blood. He amused himself by dividing his meal into courses. The female for starter, the larger of the males for main, the small one who smelled of high [blood sugar](http://youtu.be/JM07HYSGVho) for dessert. He fed slowly and cleanly, sinking sharp teeth into numb skin and lapping up the blood as it spurted from the tiny punctures. He cared for his donors, closing the wounds with a swipe from the gland on the underside of his chin to smear clotting agent and antiseptic onto the site.

He lay curled against dessert until the feeling of fullness left and he felt awake, energised and ready to face the journey home. He was glad there had been three. One night there had been one who had not survived the combined shock of blood loss, malnutrition and neglect. He felt no regret, it had been a simple choice of which of two desperate creatures would see out the night.

He kissed each of his donors on the face and climbed out of the hole, checking for danger and scurrying back into the shadows. He was faster now, more agile, able to take more risks. He reached home quickly, jumped onto the window sill and climbed back through the unlocked window. Contented and calm, he walked down the corridor back to his room, jumped four feet in the air and hung in space to sleep, hide from the burning sun and wait for his pet to come play.


	20. Put a spell on you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trope: Magic spell  
> Carlos / Night Vale residents / Cecil

Carlos sent his team home. They had worked well into the evening, past their usual finishing time, because the problem in front of them was so utterly fascinating that time really did behave in a non-linear manner. Dave's phone alarm sounded to remind him that it was quarter to eight and he had a date with Susan the second grade scrying teacher. He did not want to be late.  
"Uh, Carlos? Can I go?"  
"What?" Carlos frowned. "Oh, yes. You should all go get some rest. I'll do a bit more here and we can apply some fresh minds to it in the morning."  
Rochelle laughed. "Carlos, we all love science but not as much as you do. It's Friday night. You sure you want us all in tomorrow morning?"  
Carlos sighed. "I guess not. I'll be here if anyone wants to come help out. Otherwise I'll see you all on Monday."  
The scientists, except for Carlos who continued to glare at the collection of small, polished, reddish-black, flattened oval pebbles on the table in front of him, swapped lab coats for civvies and headed out into the evening. Carlos took a break. He made coffee and turned the radio on, grinned when he realised which show was due on next and settled back down with his bloodstone collection.

Carlos smiled when he heard his name mentioned on the radio. Cecil's joke. He thought about how it freaked him out at first, but after meeting the radio man a few times he decided it was just done for fun and maybe to help them feel welcome and wanted. He was used to being identified as _Cecil's science feller_ around town and that was okay.  
He finished his coffee and set the mug aside. He pushed the bloodstones around, making patterns with them and drawing the shapes in his notebook. Perhaps he could ask Cecil about local customs relating to bloodstones. He could call after his show finished and....  
No. He wouldn't do that. Scientists are self-reliant and don't need to call radio presenters.  
Carlos tried a different pattern of bloodstones. He measured and plotted their positions and wrote down observations of how he felt when he looked at the pattern. _A bit down. Lonely._ He sighed and leaned back, picked up his coffee mug and returned it to the break area at the far end of the lab. He waited for the coffee machine to hiss out another drink. _Lonely, self-reliant_ He spoke out to the empty lab.  
"I'm tired of being self-reliant. I want to find someone who can love me for who I am now, not who they want to turn me into."  
Unseen by Carlos, the bloodstones glowed and crackled, scorching a pattern into the wooden desktop. Carlos drank his coffee at the table in the break area, read a few pages of an astronomy magazine then went back to the bloodstones. He put his finger on one intending to slide it to a new position. Instead he touched the others in turn and made a new set of observations.  
 _Stones warm to the touch, indication of significant exothermic reaction, check composition of stones in case of internal chemical activity. For safety, two scientists to be present when experimenting with bloodstones._ He backed up his notes with photographs of the stones and of the burnt desktop on his phone camera.  
He packed up the stones and locked up the lab.

Carlos lived within walking distance of the lab. He strolled home, enjoying the cool of the evening after the heat of the day. His route took him past the store. It was still open and he went in to buy something for dinner. He dropped a pack of microwave rice and a can of chili beans into his basket along with two bottles of beer from the refrigerator, a six pack of soda and some granola. He went to the till.  
"Oh, um, hello sir, do you need a bag? Can I pack for you?"  
"Yes please I need a bag, but I can pack, thanks."  
"Oh. Okay."  
The checkout operator rung through the first couple of items.  
"You're that scientist, aren't you? The one Cecil talks about?"  
Carlos rolled his eyes. "Yes, that's me."  
"So, two beers? One for you and one for Cecil?"  
Carlos frowned. "No, one for me tonight and one for me tomorrow night."  
The checkout operator smiled. "I see, you're single?"  
"Look, this is getting a bit personal, I'm in town to work. For science."  
"I can totally see why Cecil talks about you so much. You are very handsome, you know."  
"Uh... thanks." Carlos handed over some cash and waited while the assistant counted out his change. They made brief hand contact when Carlos accepted the stack of coins.  
"My shift ends at ten. Here, I'm writing my number on your receipt. Call if you want company."

Carlos walked more quickly, head down, thinking over his encounter with the unusually forward checkout operator. They had rarely even made eye contact before now. He couldn't identify a single thing he had done differently. He reached home, put the beer and soda in the fridge, the chili and rice in the microwave, and the granola in the cupboard, turned on the TV and forgot all about it.

Meanwhile, at the radio station, Cecil finished tidying up his booth after his broadcast. Intern Dana waved through the window. He waved back and smiled, Dana opened the door.  
"Cecil? Switchboard asks what did you say tonight. They're real busy with calls, mostly about your scientist."  
Cecil frowned. "I hardly mentioned him tonight. Just the usual, you know, perfect hair, lovely smile..." Cecil smiled to himself.  
"Cecil! Really, there must have been something. Put your headphones on and I'll patch through a few of the recorded messages."  
"Oh?" Cecil glanced at his phone. "It's late, I don't..."  
"You really need to hear these. Just one?"  
Cecil sat down and put his headphones back on. Dana scurried off. Cecil listened to the click and hiss in his ears.

"Hello? NVCR how may I direct your call?"  
 _I want to speak to Cecil._  
"I'm sorry, the Voice of Night Vale cannot take calls at the moment, can I take a message?"  
 _Tell him he doesn't deserve that gorgeous scientist._  
"Thank you, I will pass your message on. Can I take a name please? Oh, you hung up."  
CLICKbrrrrbrrrrrCLICK  
"Hello? NVCR how may I direct your call?"  
 _Can I speak to Mr Palmer._  
"I'm sorry, the Voice of Night Vale cannot take calls at the moment, can I take a message?"  
 _Uh, yeah I guess. Tell him he better move fast on lovely Carlos because if I get there first he's going to be mine._  
"Thank you, I will pass your message on. Can I take a name please? Oh, goodbye then."

Cecil listened open-mouthed to another few recorded calls then pulled off his headphones. Dana frowned.  
"Cecil, I listened to your show again because sometimes I think you forget what you say, and you really didn't say anything much about Carlos tonight. They had to close the switchboard."  
"Dana, I have no idea what's going on. Do you think I should call Carlos? Make sure he's okay?"  
Dana shrugged. "I don't know, Cecil, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to let him know he has a friend."  
"Yes, a friend. I will be friendly."  
Cecil pretended to scroll through his contacts while hitting speed-dial. The call went straight to voice mail then cut off.  
"Dana? I think there is something wrong. I'm going round there to see if he's okay."  
"Be careful, Cecil."

Cecil drove to the lab. It was in darkness and there were a few people hanging around outside. He parked and went up to one of them.  
"Hi, are you looking for the scientists?"  
"Only Carlos. We all want to talk to him."  
"Oh? Why?"  
"You should know! He's so lovely."  
"Uh? What do you mean?"  
"Well, he's so nice and so... single. We think he should have company. I'm sure he could love one of us just as much as we love him. I used to laugh at the way you talk about him on the radio but tonight when I saw him walking home I realised you were right all along. I would have followed him home but that's weird and creepy. I thought I'd wait here for him instead. I'm sure he'll be back at the lab soon, he's so hard working, so diligent."  
Cecil smiled nervously and backed away. He got back in his car and drove off. But not far, he parked around the back of the lab and broke in. If it wasn't something he had said on his show, it must be something Carlos had done.

Carlos ate microwaved chili, drank beer and watched TV oblivious to his phone. It vibrated on silent in the pocket of his lab coat over the back of a kitchen chair. It recorded voicemails until it reached its limit. He got up when someone knocked. He peered through the peephole and opened the door.  
"Rochelle? Is everything okay? You look weird. Oh, here's Dave. Hi Dave, I thought you had a date tonight." He looked out the window to the street below. Three more scientists were converging on his apartment block. "Okay, umm, you're all here. What's going on?"  
Dave and Rochelle looked daggers at each other. Rochelle explained.  
"Something happened. I was making dinner for me and... someone I've been keeping real quiet about. I felt this weird, sudden feeling. Like... oh shit you're going to laugh your ass off and I can't stand it if you do. Carlos, please believe me that this is _really uncomfortable_ but all I could think about was being with you because I love you so much."  
Carlos laughed. "We've been friends for a while, are you drunk? You've said _I love you Carlos_ before and it's okay because it's friends-love. Right? Rochelle, why are you shaking your head like that?"  
"This is different Carlos." Rochelle looked at Dave. Dave nodded.  
"I know what she means, Carlos. I dumped a date with Susan because she's not _you."_  
"Wait a minute." Carlos frowned. "Are you telling me that you two are here because they want _me?_ That's insane! It's deranged!"  
"How the fuck do you think we feel about it!" Rochelle almost cried. "I know it's wrong but I just want to... Ugh. Is this how people actually think about each other?"

Carlos opened the door again when the rest of the team arrived. He held up a hand.  
"Don't say anything. There is something wrong here and I will find out what it is, with science. At the lab. Okay? You all stay here. Whatever you feel isn't real. Try to ignore it. I'll call when I know anything."  
He put on his lab coat, took it off again, retrieved his phone and put on a plain jacket and a baseball cap instead. It wasn't much of a disguise but it was the best he could do at short notice. Carlos walked to the lab by a back route. He saw an open window and used it to get in without having to unlock the front doors. A lab light was on. He tutted at himself for poor security. He checked the blinds were down before entering the lab properly. He did not want the small but growing group of people at the front of the building to be able to see him inside.  
Carlos slipped across to his office, switched his jacket for a lab coat and removed the baseball cap. As he left the office he rubbed his hands through his hair to get rid of the feeling of the cap and closed his eyes, sighing in relief that he was somewhere he felt comfortable.  
When he opened his eyes again he jumped and yelled. There was a figure standing by his desk.

Startled, Cecil turned.  
"Carlos? Carlos, are you okay?"  
"What are you doing in my lab?"  
Cecil felt his mouth dry and his stomach churn. He felt a strong urge to giggle and run away. He struggled to keep his breathing even despite his thumping heartbeat. Years of experience threatened to be unable to keep his voice calm. "Um, there were some phone calls to the radio station. People are... people are acting _really weird_ right now. I came to see if you were safe. I broke in, in case you were in here hurt. I'm sorry about the damaged window."  
Carlos kept his distance.  
"Cecil, are you okay? You're not... um... affected by this... anomaly?"  
Cecil smiled. "No, no I think I'm immune for some reason. You are safe with me."  
Carlos blew out a long breath. "I need to find out what's going on and stop it. Can you help me?"  
Cecil beamed and nodded. "Oh I would love to help! I'm really into science, you know"  
Carlos asked if he was _sure_ he was okay, but put it down to the man's natural enthusiasm.

Carlos took out his notebook and the bloodstones. "Everything was normal when the team left this evening, eight o'clock. We were investigating bloodstone patterns, setting them out and recording any effect on us."  
Cecil stared. "Carlos, that's really dangerous!"  
"I am a scientist. Scientists face danger every day. Anyway, here are the patterns we tried."  
He pulled two lab stools over next to each other, sat on one and patted the other. Cecil joined him. He opened the notebook and tapped the page. Cecil reached a hand out, wondered if Carlos noticed the slight tremor, and traced over the first pattern.  
"That one looks harmless, it's a general protection pattern. You'd embed it by your front door." Cecil turned the page, leaning in to see better. "This one is okay too, reputed to cure warts but I'm not so sure."  
They looked at pattern after pattern, heads almost touching, Carlos asking questions and Cecil answering them. They reached the last pattern. Cecil frowned as he traced his finger over it.  
"Something wrong? Cecil?"  
"This one." Cecil tapped the page. He turned his head to look at Carlos's profile and almost lost the capacity to speak. He looked down at the page again. "I read what you wrote but can you please show me _exactly_ what happened?"

"Yes, the pattern is still burned onto the desk. Look!" Carlos jumped up and showed Cecil the charred spots on the wooden surface.  
"Oh-oh, you made the pattern. Did this happen right away?"  
"Uh, no. I drew it out, went over there to make coffee, read for a while then came back. The stones were warm."  
"Did you say anything over the stones? Like... I dunno... make a wish? Anything at all?"  
"What? No! That's ridicu.... Oh. Oh no."  
Carlos sat down and covered his face.  
"I might have said something. Um. Something about... Oh fuck."  
"Carlos, however difficult it is, I need you to tell me what you said, as close to your exact words as you can remember."

Carlos blushed and wouldn't look up. Cecil thought he had never looked more beautiful.  
"I said. Oh please don't laugh. I know you say stuff about me on your show and that's okay because I know you don't mean it. I said... I said something like I wanted someone to love me for who I am, not someone who wanted to change me. I am so embarrassed right now."  
Cecil smiled. He reached out a hand and rested it on Carlos's shoulder.  
"Carlos, you have everyone who has seen you recently queued up waiting to be that person."  
"Fuck. Can we undo this thing?"  
"The spell? Yes."  
"The bloodstone energy field pattern."  
"Call it whatever you like."

Carlos, instructed by Cecil, set out the bloodstones in the same pattern as before. Cecil helped him choose his wording carefully.  
"I want everyone to go back to thinking of me the same way they did before eight o'clock this evening."  
The bloodstones glowed and charred bigger ovals into the desk than before. Outside, people shook their heads, frowned or laughed and wandered away. Inside the lab, Cecil stood beside Carlos's lab stool with a hand still on his shoulder.  
"Is that it? Cecil, is it over?"  
"I think so."  
Carlos took out his phone and called Rochelle. A short conversation confirmed that the scientists suffered from nothing worse than a bad case of embarrassment and would like the matter never to be discussed.  
"It's normal. I'm back to being unloved."  
Cecil swept away the bloodstones before he was tempted to speak.

Over coffee in the far corner of the lab, Carlos relaxed a little.  
"Cecil, you weren't affected."  
Cecil shook his head. "My feelings towards you were not changed."  
"I'm glad, thank you for your help tonight."  
"You're welcome. I'd hate to think about you being made uncomfortable by unwelcome attention from people you barely know."  
"Mmm."  
"You were wrong tonight, on one point."  
"Oh? Scientifically speaking, where was my error?"  
Cecil smiled and stared at his coffee, summoning courage above his rising panic.  
"You said you were unloved. I think [perhaps](http://youtu.be/Qb2lf6JB3s0) you're wrong."


	21. Just the way I'm feeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Superhero AU  
> Maureen/Dana
> 
> Maureen accentally gains a superpower without ever realising it. Just as well, Dana needs her help.

Returning from the otherworldly desert hellscape, Maureen felt different. College and work at the radio station felt the same, dull and dangerous. She missed Dana more than she was prepared to admit even to herself. That odd scientist she met in the desert, the one Cecil droned on about constantly, boasted about being self-reliant but she thought he was a little whiny, moping about missing Cecil and begging Dana and her to teach him how to materialise in his studio.  
 _”It is for purely scientific reasons. I must study these otherworldly phenomena. It is not for personal reasons at all. I wouldn’t normally ask, I am sure I could work it out on my own because scientists are known for being self-reliant, but I would like to master the technique quickly.”_  
Oh how she teased the intolerable man about that! She knew exactly what Cecil meant when he said _”Oh, Carlos, my lovely Carlos called me for science yesterday!”_ with that smirk on his face.  
No. Of the humans temporarily trapped in that desert, she was the self-reliant one. Carlos needed everybody, he just didn't see it. Josie needed her angels. John needed the masked army. Dana needed two armies. Maureen needed nobody.  
Except maybe Dana, she thought. Dana, but not Mayor Cardinal. There was a difference and Dana was not available anymore.  
Maureen sighed and pushed herself out of her seat in the break room as Cecil’s voice called her name from the door. Hey, she told the coffee machine, at least he remembers my name now.

Cecil smiled at Maureen despite her scowl.  
“Oh, there you are! Sometimes I think you are hiding from me. I have a job for you, the ants are, well, antsy I suppose. Can you sing to them for a while?”  
Maureen rolled her eyes and walked out of the break room, carrying her coffee with her. She went to the vivarium containing Cecil’s ant colony, which he had carefully moved into his studio in case he felt lonely during his late show when he was most likely to dispute the existence of reality. She took the _Bumper Book O’ Sea Shanties_ from the shelf next to the glass tank, watched the ants scurrying in their tunnels for a few moments, fanned the pages of the book and chose a page at random. Cecil's bloodstone collection was still in her pocket, he had her pick them up from the specialist bloodstone polisher in town earlier. She spilled them over the floor and trod on a few, scattering them.  
"Oops."  
The ants were unimpressed. She watched them for a little longer, observing their activity.  
"Do you all know what each other are doing? Are you lots of little brains or parts of one big brain?"  
She shook her head and snorted at herself. _Idiot, talking to the ants!_  
Maureen looked at the song on the page she chose and sang while bloodstones glowed under her feet.

The ants seemed calm when Maureen stopped. She sighed and peered at the ants again.  
"Huh?"  
Maureen got her phone out and took a photograph as the ants stood in line, side by side, and waved their front pair of legs at her.  
"Cool! Should've taken a video. World's first ant-based Mexican wave."  
She left the studio, snuck past the break room door and escaped the building before Cecil could make any more demands. She could almost feel him looking for her.  
"Ha! No more slashfic copyediting today!"

Maureen walked home. Public transport felt a little intimidating, all those strangers in such a confined space. She wondered what lay behind the blank, unsmiling expressions at the bus stop, and hurried past as she imagined their thoughts. Once free, she shuddered and turned her mind to more pleasant things. People she knew and respected  
She thought about John and his theories about transdimensional oranges. She imagined him sitting in his farmhouse, happy to be home with his family, and smiled at the uncharacteristic warmth she felt.  
She turned her mind to Cecil, who was only briefly in the desert and escorted by Erika at all times. Maureen felt confusion and grief. She laughed at herself again. "Your boss is a pain in the ass," she reminded herself. But she didn't quite believe her own thoughts and took out her phone to text him.  
 _Sorry had to go early, will read your thing tomorrow. M._  
Maureen thought about Carlos still in the desert. He made her think of nothing, of being out of reach, out of touch. She was almost envious.  
Josie and the angels made her feel concerned but confident. People did the best they could.  
Last she allowed herself to think about Dana. Not Mayor Cardinal who never replied to her letter, but Dana her fellow intern and friend. She concentrated, barely breathing, eyes closed. Maureen felt her heartbeat speed up, she opened her mouth and took a deep breath in ready to scream and just caught it in time. She turned and ran as fast as she could towards the Mayor's residence, bag bouncing across her hips and coat flapping behind her, heart pounding and breath heaving.

She slowed as she reached the gate. It was closed. Maureen reached out and carefully nudged the metal bars with the back of her hand. Nothing, it was switched off, but locked. Before an alert guard noticed, she climbed up and over, landing awkwardly on the other side. She stumbled into the undergrowth on the inside of the wall and waited for the pain in her ankle to ease.  
She listened out for the sound of guards. There was no sign of the Mayor's bodyguards outside the house. Maureen crept out of her hiding place and walked on the grass to the side of the building. She put a hand on the wall to steady herself.  
She yelled and pulled her hand away, stumbling back from the wall.  
"Dana! I'm coming!"  
Maureen ran around the outside of the house, away from the front, until she found a side door. It was locked but she was strong. The door gave way and she found herself in a laundry room. She walked through it to a kitchen, armed herself, and continued on to a hallway with a set of stairs leading up. She stopped, listened, concentrated.  
Up. Dana was upstairs. Maureen paused with her feet on the bottom step. There were guards, but only two. She twirled her weapons and headed up. The closer she got, the stronger was her feeling of where Dana was.  
Maureen entered the second room on the left and swung her enamelled griddle-pan one way then the other. Two bodies crumpled to the floor.  
The blindfolded figure tied to the chair moaned softly.

Maureen clambered over the unconscious guards to reach Dana. She put a gentle hand on Dana's trembling shoulder and spoke carefully.  
"Dana, it's me, Maureen. I'm going to untie you, okay? Sit still."  
She used her other weapon, a six-inch general purpose knife, to cut through the plastic ties and the blindfold then threw it into the corner of the room.  
"M... M..."  
"Can you walk? Nod if you can try to stand up."  
Dana nodded. Maureen hauled her up out of the chair  
"I'm taking you out of here."  
Maureen led Dana by the hand downstairs, out of the front door and down to the gates.

As they reached the gates, John stepped out of the shadows by the wall.  
"Darndest thing. I was watchin' TV and somehow I got the feelin' I should be here with these. Josie called, she's sendin' Erika to clean up anythin' what needs cleanin' up."  
He brandished a set of bolt cutters. John cut through two bars, enough for Maureen and Dana to slip through. They got into John's car and he drove them to the farm.

John made the women tea and left them to talk while he went back to his TV.  
"Are you okay?"  
"Yes, thanks for the rescue. Maureen, how did you know?"  
"I have no idea. I was thinking about you and then I knew you needed help. I could tell where you were. It's freaky." Maureen shuddered. "I thought about all the people from here that I met in the desert. It's like I could feel them, you know?"  
Dana nodded. "I knew you were coming. I could feel it."  
"Dana, you're mayor. What's going on?"  
"I have some unpopular policies. I think my rivals paid my guards to keep me out of sight for a while, kidnap me inside my own residence. Ugh, you know how it is, politics!"  
Maureen nodded, although she didn't. "What will you do?"  
Dana sighed. "Tomorrow I ask the Sheriff's Secret Police to appoint new guards, find out who is behind this. Then I think I might move back in with my folks for a while. I miss them."  
"Tomorrow you are Mayor Cardinal again." Maureen sighed and looked away. Dana took her hand and stroked it the way she sometimes used to when they were together in the desert.  
"Yes, but for tonight I'm just Dana. I miss you."  
Maureen looked back at Dana and smiled. She laid her other hand on Dana's cheek and kissed her.

In the living room, John smiled briefly and thought it was nice for the guest room to be used and for there to be someone to fuss over at breakfast.

In the radio station, Cecil watched the ants build new tunnels in their sand. He picked up the scattered bloodstones and tutted at Maureen's carelessness.

In the spare room, Maureen closed her eyes. There was something missing now, she felt loss without being quite sure what had gone. She rolled onto her side, reached out and curled her arm around Dana. She couldn't tell if Dana was awake or asleep. She shuffled closer until they shared a pillow.  
"[I go to sleep ](http://youtu.be/7hP3gQdFxGA) every night thinking of this. I can't have what I want, but know that I love you anyway."

 


	22. Everyone lies online.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trope: Online relationship  
> Marcus/Jake
> 
> Jake gets sick of Marcus bothering him and decides he needs someone else, anyone else, to keep him busy. Online dating's a thing, right? And everyone is exactly who they claim to be, yeah?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have two versions. I wil post the other one separately when I'm happy with it.

**Version One**

Marcus ransacked his brain for a plausible reason to call Jake out of his apartment in the east wing of Vansten Mansion and up to his private rooms in the main house. He was bored of playing with people on the internet. He called Jake twice already in the last hour, once to advise on which uniforms to have his staff wear at the next corporate event but Jake refused to be a model, and the second time to ask Jake if he knew anything about backache. That second time, Jake left in a mood after refusing to massage Marcus's lower back and glutes. Marcus joked that his assistant was afraid to touch his ass in case he lost control and broke his rule about not fucking his boss.

Jake seethed in his living room. Marcus invited him the previous night to _check out this new champagne I got, heh maybe you'll get drunk and that'd be so cute_ and to _meet me in my bedroom and tell me which sheets feel best._ So far, tonight, Marcus asked him _get changed into these outfits, I want to see which one looks best on you_ and _can you massage me? I'm getting really stiff._  
Marcus joked about Jake being afraid of losing control. Jake's anger was because Marcus was partly right. He calmed himself by thinking about Earl. He hadn’t seen Earl for a while. Jake reached for his phone and scrolled through his contacts but the phone rang in his hand. He looked at the screen and rolled his eyes.  
“Mr Vansten. What now?”  
“I’m bored. Let's go ride in your car.”  
“Sir, it’s late. Please get another hobby that isn't abusing your staff.”  
"I'd like you to ab-" Jake hung up.

Jake switched his phone off. Maybe if Marcus had someone else to keep him entertained he would back off. Someone not connected with his business. There was no way he had time to go out and find someone, online dating was his best bet. He found a dating site with a free trial period, set up a profile for _Theegohaslanded_ with basic personal information and closed his laptop.  
After a few minutes he logged in again and browsed the profiles to see if Marcus’s fake profile was online yet. It was. One other profile caught his eye. He sent a brief message, just to say hi, and left his laptop logged in.

Jake's laptop chimed. He checked his watch, it had only been half an hour. There was a reply. He clicked on the message icon. The inbox opened, along with a popup screen requesting a credit card number to unlock the full functionality of the site. Jake cursed quietly but entered the data requested. He waited while the payment was processed, wondering if he could charge it to expenses.  
The screen refreshed and the message from _Drivingyoumad_ opened.  
 _Drivingyoumad_ \- _Hi, I'm online. Want to chat?_  
Jake sat, hand over his mouth for a moment. He shouldn't. He should go see Marcus and explain, let him laugh at him. As soon as the thought formed he rejected it vocally to the empty room.  
"Oh elder gods no, delete it and close it."  
But there was no harm in a little rôle play, was there?

Jake grinned and settled down with a glass of wine. Now, how would Marcus handle this?  
 _Theegohaslanded_ \- Hi, I'm busy but can chat while I do important stuff, or, like, whatever.  
 _Drivingyoumad_ \- _I can handle that. Tell me about yourself? What's your job?_  
 _Theegohaslanded_ \- I run my own business. I'm a very successful businessman. Like, really important.  
 _Drivingyoumad_ \- _I work long hours. I don't own the place I work but I'm very good at my job._  
 _Theegohaslanded_ \- What's your boss like?  
 _Drivingyoumad_ \- _Says the wrong thing a lot. Pisses me off all the time._  
 _Theegohaslanded_ \- Heh, whatever. What do you do?

There was no answer for several minutes. Jake was glad because it gave him a chance to field another request from Marcus, who sent a runner with a message asking him to _come up and help me treat the hardwood in the new bedroom._  
 _Drivingyoumad_ \- _I do whatever he needs me to do, but not everything he wants me to do. I have to turn my phone off sometimes for a break. But he needs me more than he likes to admit._  
 _Theegohaslanded_ \- Oh really? How do you know?  
 _Drivingyoumad_ \- _I offered to resign over something I didn't want to do. He gave me a raise and a car to make me stay._

Jake stared at the screen, stomach fluttering and heat rising. He got up and walked around his apartment for a few minutes to cure the trembling in his limbs. He decided to go up to see Marcus, find out if he knew who his role play partner was. He grabbed the laptop and got as far as opening the door into the corridor before changing his mind and retreating to the sofa. He could have fun.

 _Theegohaslanded_ \- Sounds like a complete douche.  
 _Drivingyoumad_ \- _He doesn't mean to be._  
 _Theegohaslanded_ \- He bought you off. That's a douchey thing to do and it worked. I think you like him.  
 _Drivingyoumad_ \- _It is a reward for being good at my job and an incentive to stay with someone who is hard to work with._  
 _Theegohaslanded_ \- Heh, I'll bet he's hard. Would you fuck someone who fucks with you like that?  
 _Drivingyoumad_ \- _Fuck you!_  
 _User Drivingyoumad has disconnected._

Jake refilled his glass and sent another message.  
 _Theegohaslanded_ \- I go too far, too fast.  
 _Drivingyoumad_ \- _You sound like my boss. I don't fuck my way up the ladder._  
 _Theegohaslanded_ \- Is that why you almost resigned?  
 _Drivingyoumad_ \- _Yes. He tries to wear me down all the time._  
 _Theegohaslanded_ \- Does he really like you, or just want you?  
 _Drivingyoumad_ \- _You ever fallen in love with an employee?_  
 _Theegohaslanded_ \- No. I've fallen in lust. But if I fuck them, they leave.  
 _Drivingyoumad_ \- _You're not what I'm looking for. Have a nice life._  
 _User Drivingyoumad has disconnected._

Marcus sighed. He sat with his head in his hands, elbows on the desk next to his keyboard. He thought about what he had just done. Pretending to be Jake, trying to think like Jake, answering questions from some anonymous contact, as if he was Jake talking to some asshole businessman. Some of the things the man said resonated in him. He thought about how he treated his assistant. He wondered: if Jake was online pretending to be him, how would he respond?  
 _He tries to wear me down... if I fuck them, they leave._  
Suspicion nagged at his thoughts but wouldn't solidify. Marcus got up, put on casual pants and a nice shirt and left his private rooms, limping and carrying a bottle of Zinfandel and two glasses.

Jake jumped at the knock on his door. He opened it, expecting a runner with some strange or stupid innuendo-laden instruction from his employer.  
"Marcus! You're... uh, you're almost fully dressed!"  
"Yeah, whatever."  
"Um, okay. What do you need me for?"  
Jake cursed inwardly for giving Marcus an opportunity. Marcus's mouth twitched then settled. He kept his hands behind his back. "I want to talk. Or listen. Whatever."  
"It's late."  
"Am I, y'know, ha---- difficult to work for?"  
"Are you feeling alright?"  
"Yeah. I'd feel better if you'd invite me in to share this." Marcus brought the wine out from behind his back.  
Jake sighed and started to close the door. "You want me drunk? You tried that already."  
"No, nonono, wait. I want... I want to get to know you. To be... um..."  
Jake rolled his eyes. "You. You want to be friends?"  
Marcus slowly and carefully put the bottle and glasses on the carpet and turned away without showing his pain. "Sorry, stupid idea. I'm your boss."  
"Wait." Jake frowned. Marcus stood with his back to Jake. "Please don't make me regret this."  
Jake opened the door wide and stood aside. Marcus felt his heart soar and kept it stifled.

Marcus perched in a chair rather than sprawl on Jake's sofa. Jake passed him a glass of wine.  
"It really is late, you know."  
"Heh. I give you permission to sleep in tomorrow."  
"You have a meeting with McDaniels at nine."  
Marcus rolled his eyes. "Please tell me it's not at _Dragonflies._ "  
Jake snorted. "No, your office. No alcohol. No dancers."  
Marcus raised his glass in mock salute. "To diclofenac! I probably shouldn't be drinking. Heh. Um, I'm not good at personal stuff but you're the best assistant I've ever not had."  
Jake raised his glass too. "Fuck you, sir, and your bad back."

Jake sipped his wine and _Hmm_ ed in appreciation.  
"You like it? I have it specially imported."  
"Yes. Thank you."  
"So, tell me about yourself. Not the shit on your resumé. Real stuff. You like music?"  
Jake got up. "I just downloaded something. It's not new but I like it. Want to listen? I don't normally share my taste in music." Marcus smiled and nodded. "Close your eyes."  
Jake refilled their glasses and dimmed the lights before he found the [track](http://youtu.be/jAtx578yaZ8). Marcus listened. It was not what he expected.

Fifteen minutes later, Marcus realised that the music had stopped and he wanted it back. He watched Jake lying on the couch with his eyes closed and a relaxed smile settling on his face. He felt encouraged because Jake chose to share something personal and he was not ready for the lights to go back on.  
"Again?"

Jake sat up. Marcus moved from the chair to the couch while Jake fiddled with his phone to find the repeat function. They sat like bookends. Marcus relaxed back, winced, pushed two cushions behind him and tried to recline again.  
"I wasn't joking about my back. It really does hurt."  
Jake made a rolling motion with his hands, vacated his seat on the couch and Marcus lay face down on the warmth Jake had left there. He pulled the cushion down and buried his face in it. It smelled of Jake. Jake knelt on the floor, pushed up Marcus's shirt and laid both hands on Marcus's lower back.  
"Uh, sir? pease don't read anything into this, but if you want me to do anything about your back pain you will have to take some clothes off. That's not an invitation to- "  
"I know! I know."  
"So we're clear?"  
Marcus nodded and removed his pants.

Jake worked on Marcus's aching, tense muscles while music lulled them. He stopped when the track began its next repeat. Marcus pushed himself up slowly and stretched.  
"Mmm. Thanks, that is a bit better."  
"I'll make you an appointment with a physio. I can email them now."  
"It can wait for morning, Jake, I'm sorry you thought this was work."  
Marcus got up. He walked to the door with Jake following.  
"I'm trying, Jake."  
"I know."  
Later Jake put it down to the combination of painkillers and alcohol Marcus had swilling around in his system. Marcus put it down to Jake's music and the dimmed lighting. Jake reached past Marcus to open the door for him but instead his left hand met Marcus's right on the door handle as Marcus opened the door himself. For four seconds neither moved. Marcus trailed his hand up Jake's arm to his shoulder, his neck, his jaw. Jake pushed the door closed again. They watched each other's eyes glinting in the light from the living room. Jake covered Marcus's hand with his own and closed his eyes. He turned his head and kissed Marcus's wrist and palm. Marcus leaned forwards and kissed Jake's cheek.

They stood, the only sound the music still playing. Jake breathed in Marcus's scent deeply until his head spun. He opened his eyes.  
"I shouldn't've done that. You better go. I'm a little drunker than I thought."  
"Okay."  
Neither man moved for twenty seconds. Jake took his hand from Marcus's and opened the door a few inches. Marcus sighed and shrugged.  
"I don't want to do anything I'd, y'know, regret, or whatever. I mean, _if I fuck them, they leave_ right?"  
Jake covered his face with both hands. "Oh elder gods you knew it was me?"  
"Not until right now. Are you mad at me all the time?"  
Jake shook his head. "No. You're just a bit much sometimes, you could back off a little. I'm constantly on my guard and it's tiring."  
"And you could be a little less uptight. Take me less seriously and trust me not to be a douche where it matters. I won't take advantage of you like that. We fit. I like you and I guess you like me, but if you don't wanna go further I'm not gonna push you. I don't wanna make you leave."  
Marcus pulled Jake's hands away from his face, leaned close and whispered, "but I really do need advice on how to treat the hardwood in the bedroom."  
Jake pulled the door open and pushed his sniggering boss out.  
"Goodnight Marcus."

The door clicked behind him and Marcus stood in the corridor wondering just exactly what was he supposed to do next. He turned to look at the door, wondering if Jake would let him back in if he apologised.  
 _He tries to wear me down._  
Marcus went to bed happy to have made enough progress, for now.


	23. Jumping to Conclusions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mythical Creature / Human
> 
> Marcus goes out drinking with Hiram. He wakes up next day with a strange set of bites and burns and no memory of how he got them. 
> 
> Jake wonders if everything is as obvious as it looks.

Jake took Marcus a mug of coffee and some breakfast. Marcus swore at him and retreated face down further into the pillows.  
"Hungover, sir? How was your meeting with Mr McDaniels last night?"  
Marcus groaned. "Fucker made me go to _Dragonflies_ again. I have no idea how much I drank. Think he likes to watch humans act stupid."  
Jake grinned and put Marcus's breakfast down on the table in the corner.  
"In that case I'm glad I was not required, sir. That place gives me very mixed feelings. Was Earl there?"  
"No. Earl doesn't work for Hiram any more. Some bother about scouts stalking Hiram for badge practice. I always gave them the slip, but Hiram's kinda, y'know, hard to hide."  
Jake laughed properly this time. "I brought breakfast. You have a meeting in an hour."  
"Ugh. Whatever."

Jake turned to go.  
"Uh, wait while I get ready, I might need you."  
"Okay sir."  
"You can have my coffee."  
"Thanks."  
Jake averted his eyes as Marcus slid naked out of bed and walked to his private shower room. He opened the windows once he heard water running. He heard the shower door open and close, and Marcus screamed.

Jake ran to the shower room and knocked on the door.  
"Marcus! Sir! Are you okay?"  
"Jake! Get in here!"  
Jake entered the steamy tiled room. Marcus was in the shower, soaking wet and staring over his shoulder at himself in the smoked glass heated wall mirror that never steamed up. He was pointing.  
"What. The. Fuck. Is. That!"  
Jake looked in the mirror, realised he would see better if he simply looked at Marcus and turned round. He opened the glass door enclosing the shower. Marcus pointed at his back.  
On the back of Marcus's neck, on the back of his right arm and on his left hip were what looked like marks that could have been made by pointed teeth biting carefully. At the centre of each set of marks was a small patch of reddened, blistered skin.

Jake stared.  
"Explain those marks, Jake!"  
"Umm, I'm trying but only one thing comes to mind and it's not very... uh... Mr Vansten, do you remember much of last night?"  
"NOT A FUCKING THING! Jake, this is not cool!"  
Marcus was close to panic. Jake got a warm towel and wrapped it carefully around the shivering man.  
"Come on, dry off and let me see those marks properly. I'll try to come up with an explanation that isn't..."  
"I FUCKING FUCKED A FUCKING DRAGON!"  
"It kinda looks like the fucking dragon fucking fucked you, sir."  
"What? FUCK!"

Marcus sat silently while Jake dried him, careful to avoid the blisters. Afterwards, Marcus sat still and quiet, hugging his fluffiest robe while Jake examined his injuries and photographed them with Marcus's phone camera.  
"Sir, do you want me to rearrange your meetings today?"  
Marcus nodded.  
"I'll go do that. Here's another robe to wear, I'll just be in your study."  
Jake went into the study and loaded Marcus's diary onto the computer. He had five calls to make. The last one was to McDaniels Insurance. Unseen by Jake, Marcus followed him and hovered by the door.

"Hi, this is Jake, Marcus Vansten's assistant. I want to rearrange Mr Vansten's meeting with Mr McDaniels for later in the week. Thursday at the earliest."  
"I see. Thank you, that is convenient for both parties then."  
"Hah! yes. Uh, can you throw any light on what happened their meeting yesterday?"  
"Oh you have the paperwork for that? Can you email me a copy? Yes, the usual address."  
"Oh?"  
"Really? He said that? Which head? You know they don't always agree with each other."  
"I suppose if Grey verified it, it's probably true. No, don't bother Green. Thank you."  
Jake hung up and frowned. He sat with his elbows on the desk, fingers tented and hands tapping his mouth.

He turned and saw Marcus.  
"Your meetings have all been rescheduled. Mr McDaniels is busy today. Violet head has a broken nose and no recollection of last night but he went out early after receiving a phone call. His assistant is sending over your bar bill and I called the club to see if there was any CCTV coverage we could look at. They're sending me a link to view it."  
Marcus stared into space.  
"Sir?"  
"Mr Vansten?"  
Jake got up and stood in front of his boss.  
"Marcus?"  
Marcus shook himself. He dropped the robe he still clutched and wrapped both arms around Jake, sinking his head into his assistant's shoulder and heaving out sobs. Jake stroked Marcus's hair and hugged him, avoiding his damaged skin. "You're going to be okay, Marcus. Sit over here, sir. Hiram's assistant said something that makes me think it's not what it looks like."  
Jake led Marcus the three or four steps over to the executive style leather and chrome sofa opposite the desk. Jake sat beside Marcus and held him until the computer beeped to announce new email.

The bar bill arrived and was not unusually large for six heads. The link to the CCTV footage arrived soon after.  
"The CCTV footage is here, sir, want to watch it with me?"  
"No."  
"Okay, I'll tell you if it shows anything."  
Jake selected the first file.

Marcus watched Jake's face as he fast forwarded through the camera views. He listened to Jake's commentary until Jake stopped, frowned, wrote something down and pulled up another camera view. He arranged files in order. Jake got up and reached his hand out to Marcus.  
"Mr Vansten, please stop worrying. Come and watch this.  
Marcus allowed Jake to help him up and lead him to the desk, sit him in the swivel chair and direct his attention to the CCTV footage.  
He watched as Jake showed him the evidence.  
"Look, there's you drinking with Hiram. See the time?"  
"Now there's... uh... _that_ dancer. The one who... umm... with Earl and me. There's you," Jake pointed, "and there's Hiram. I think he's dancing. Is that Hiram dancing? It's entertaining, but watch what the dancer is doing." Jake reversed the video and played it again. Marcus leaned forwards.  
"Is that little shit spiking our drinks?"  
"Looks like it. He was fired half an hour previously for offering, um, enhanced services to the wrong clients."  
"Oh? Who?"  
"You and Hiram, sir."  
"Shit! I want to see that fucker later."  
"Hmm. Next file? Hang on... okay, that's one of the private rooms." Marcus watched as he and Hiram entered the room, lounged on couches and drank their spiked champagne. Soon they were giggly and relaxed. The unexpectedly unemployed dancer entered the room and got to work. He rolled Marcus onto the floor and pulled his shirt off his shoulders. Jake paused the clip.  
"Marcus, the next part is nasty. Maybe you shouldn't see."  
"Play it. I want to know exactly what I'm strangling that worthless piece of shit for."  
Marcus saw as marks were burned and forced into his flesh. He watched Hiram try to intervene and get a hammer blow in the violet snout as reward. He observed the ex-dancer drag his unconscious form on top of Hiram, pose three of his heads and take a photograph.

Marcus sat back.  
"Find him for me. Bring the bastard here."  
"I can't sir."  
Marcus turned and yelled.  
"FIND HIM. I don't mean TRY I mean DO IT NOW!"  
Jake sighed. "Last camera view, sir?"  
Marcus turned to the screen. Jake leaned over him and made the image full screen before playing it. "This is from an hour ago. Hiram arranged to meet the shit to pay to see the photograph deleted. This is the only copy of this CCTV footage by the way, sir. For some reason there was a glitch erasing all files except these copies."  
Marcus saw the dancer standing outside the back of the club. Hiram approached, fast. Hiram's five heads spread out in a pentagon that would have anyone with even the vaguest sense of self-preservation running as fast as they could. The dancer didn't expect five fireballs to blast him and certainly didn't predict his final resting place would be as hot breakfast inside the town's most famous five headed dragon.

Marcus sat back, closed his eyes and swallowed.  
"Ugh. I can't unsee that."  
"No, sir."  
"And I didn't... I wasn't... Hiram didn't..."  
"No, nothing like that happened."  
Marcus breathed deeply three times.  
"Shut down the club. Make a plausible excuse. I have to call Hiram."

Marcus emerged from his bedroom as Jake finished talking with Vansten's property agent and his lawyers.  
"It's done."  
"Thank you."  
"Huh? Part of the job."  
"No, thank you for being here when I needed you, for being what I needed. Or, y'know, whatever."  
Jake smiled when Marcus shrugged out the _whatever_ and flopped onto the sofa.  
"You mean for being a friend?"  
"Yeah, that thing you just said. I still feel... I don't suppose you'd... never mind. If you hadn't been here I would've thought... Ugh. So confused."  
Jake got up and sat beside Marcus. Marcus lay on his uninjured side with his head in Jake's lap. Jake stroked Marcus's hair.  
"I'm always here when you need me, Marcus. No [confusion](http://youtu.be/OFzk-Zl9oQY) about that."

 


	24. Unseasonal vegetation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trope: Mistletoe  
> Faceless Old Woman / everybody's business
> 
> Josie tells the FOW to remove her mistletoe collection. She has all of time and space as storage. Wonder where's she'll put it?

Josie gaped at her ceiling. Erika shuddered with laughter. It was everywhere. And it wasn't Christmas.  
"EVE! Come on, not funny."  
Erika caught Josie and kissed her on the top of the head.  
"Yall can quit that. EVE!"  
Erika kissed Josie on the cheek. Erika aimed for the top of her nose and missed, accidentally planting a giggly kiss on her eyebrow.  
"EVE! YOU CLEAR THAT UP NOW!"  
There was a skittering noise and a sigh and mistletoe disappeared one sprig at a time. A voice entered Josie's head.  
 _Fine. There are other places I can put it. A toxic parasitic life form no home should be without. By the way you have forty three spiders today. They would like... oh. Forty two. Mamma spider has been useful for the last time. You should have more corners in your home._

In homes all over town, sprigs of glossy dark green leaves and pearl-white berries appeared. Not all at once, Eve was fast but she was as much subject to the laws of physics as physicists were. She whispered to Janice, _not the so-called known laws of physics, not those at all. I obey the true laws of physics that those cretins have yet to discover and use to replace their outdated, human-centred rules. The things they call laws are laughable but they think they know best._ Janice giggled and made sicky noises as her dad walked into the kitchen, saw the mistletoe hanging above the table and leaned over to kiss her mom.  
 _And Janice, your homework is wrong. You did it right, good job, but the task was just wrong, moronic. Next time tell your teacher. Don't be such a suck-up._

Dana looked up at the unfamiliar ceiling, remembering where she was. Maureen shifted and snored by her side. Dana looked up again and something was different, Something extra. Was that mistletoe? Huh, she thought, it's the wrong season for mistletoe. When I go back to being Mayor in a few hours I will have to do something about unseasonable mistletoe, probably.  
But for now she was Dana. She half sat, propped up on one elbow, leaned over and kissed Maureen awake.  
"Mmm is it morning already?"  
"Sort of. Go back to sleep if you want."  
"I'm awake now. Is that mistletoe up there?"  
"Yeah."  
Maureen grinned and pulled Dana to her. Eve would have liked to smile as she watched their slow, relaxed activities, but she could not.

Jake groaned. "Sir, is it really urgent? It's, like, five in the morning."  
"Yes! You think I’d be awake at five if it wasn’t? Just get here. Don't bother getting dressed."  
"Mr Vansten—"  
"Heh! I meant come in your robe."  
"Sir!"  
"Jake, it takes two minutes to get from your apartment to my room. I am your boss and I am counting."  
Jake knocked on Marcus's bedroom door and went in. Marcus pointed at the ceiling. "That appeared. I was looking at the light fitting wondering if gold would cast a nice glow, or whatever, and it, like, materialised."  
"It's mistletoe, sir, and it's not Christmas for months."  
Marcus shrugged. "Heh, kiss me anyway?"  
Jake rolled his eyes, turned and went back to his bed.

Time and space were no match for Eve. She existed everywhere, always. She watched a young man look up and frown, point and turn to his companion.  
"Hey, Earl, what's that for?"  
"Huh? That wasn't there a second ago."  
The taller boy gave the shorter one a piggyback to reach the green sprig and pull it down.  
"It looks like mistletoe."  
"But it's not Christmas! It shouldn't exist!"  
"Don't panic, Cecil, it's not the weirdest thing I've ever found in your room. Well, since it is here-"  
The taller boy held the mistletoe over the shorter one's head, leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. The shorter one lifted a hand to the kissed skin and smiled at his friend. The taller one let out a sigh, dropped the mistletoe and leaned forwards to kiss again, the shorter one guiding him backwards until they landed on his bed, hands slipping under uniforms to find skin to stroke.  
Eve turned away, whispering to the shorter boy _love is what it is, take it and give where you can. Also you should tidy under your bed, it smells funny._

Eve returned to the same house years later but a different family lived there. She left mistletoe above the sofa, swapped their photographs into a more pleasing order and retreated. Another part of her in an apartment nearby stroked a familiar but adult face before positioning mistletoe. The owner of the face looked around for her but she was not to be seen. She saw him get up to answer the door, smiling and welcoming a dark interloper into his home. The newcomer looked up.  
"It's not Christmas, Cecil."  
"What? Oh! That has happened before. It just appears."  
"That is scientifically interesting and I should study it."  
"Science. of course. Okay, because I am really into science."  
"But I have to do something important first."  
The dark interloper cupped Cecil's face with both hands and kissed him softly. Cecil responded by wrapping his arms around the stranger and kissing him back with enthusiasm. She sighed in his ear but he didn't notice. He giggled.  
"What kind of scientific study did you have in mind for tonight?"

In another apartment at another time, a man in a scoutmaster uniform checked the contents of the fridge. The door opened and another man entered the kitchen.  
“Jake! Thought you were working late tonight.”  
“Yeah I was but Marcus is driving me insane. Can I crash here tonight?”  
Earl grinned. “Sure. I said any time and gave you a key for that reason. He's difficult. Sofa or…?”  
Jake laughed. “I need to empty my head. You wanna help with that?”  
“Beer and a movie?”  
“I want an Earl-y night.”  
Eve watched the two attack, wrestle to the floor and fight for position. They kissed desperately, hardly stopping to breathe, never even noticed the glossy leaves hanging from the light. It sounded like they both won. She left more above the bed for round two.

Eve skittered forwards to a small house on the edge of town. An intense woman scowled at the cabinets, swore and picked up the phone to order pizza.  
“Jan, you didn’t shop.”  
The other occupant of the house came through to the kitchen.  
“Sorry Tam, I didn’t have time. You know what it’s like now Uncle Cecil finally retired, I have twice as many shows to do and they have to be good because he listens. Especially my science show! He calls in to argue if I say something Uncle Carlos would’ve disagreed with. I recorded as much as I could during my breaks today so I can stay home this evening. You want me to go back out to the store?”  
Tam smiled. “No, sweetheart, I ordered us pizza.”  
“Ah, you’re the best! Come back through and keep me company while I sort out my sound files?”  
“Okay. I have some reading to do for class. We can sit like an old married couple and ignore each other while we each do our own stuff at opposite ends of the sofa.”  
“Hey Mrs Palmer-Flynn, less of the _old!_ Come here. I have a better use for the sofa while we wait for dinner.”  
Eve reorganised Jan’s sound files into a logical sequence and numbered them, adding a few comments of her own about local issues, while she watched one wife pick up the other in a hug, topple backwards onto the sofa and whisper [kiss me now](http://youtu.be/gF4sGxd2tXw) below the mistletoe.

In an office block in town, Eve felt guilty. She lived in homes, not offices. But sometimes Jake slept over so she supposed that was why she was there at all.  
“Eve.”  
“Erika. You’re always hanging around. Aren’t you supposed to have moved on, or at least got some nice robes?”  
“Yeah, I can stay, because y’know, whatever.”  
“It’s not good for you, either of you. You should let him go.”  
“Not gonna.”  
Jake walked into the office, stretched and ran his hand over his head where thick hair used to grow. Erika shook out golden wings and Eve handed them a sprig of mistletoe.  
“Heh. That was you?”  
“Not always. That one time after your party? That was Jake. Or maybe Earl. I get them mixed up.”  
“Oh? Heh. They totally denied it.”  
Erika popped into existence behind Jake and made him jump and laugh. They held up the mistletoe with one arm, wrapped three more around the man they now dwarfed and kissed him fondly.

Eve had one more sprig to use before she collected them up to give the berries to children with the suggestion of squashing the cool, milky beads into the branches of trees to try to cultivate another crop. Or just eat them, she didn't much care for children. She thought about where to use it.  
Back. Back to a time she felt important, rejected, loved and hateful. She scratched her way across the wall to the ceiling and held still as the door opened and someone thundered in.  
“WHO IS HERE? I DEMAND THAT YOU SHOW YOURSELF!”  
 _”COME OUT OF HIDING BEFORE I ROAST YOU OUT OF A BURNING BUILDING WITH FLAMES AND PAIN”_  
 _ **”Yes, I think it would really be much better if you let me see who you are then we can make an informed decision about whether to-”**_  
 **”Shut up Violet and listen. Green, don’t even start. It's her.”**  
Eve dropped to the floor and manifested best she could. Grey head reached over and nuzzled where her features once were, claws combing through her silver hair. Scaly arms and leathery wings enveloped her while charred fragments of plant material fluttered to the floor.


	25. Sweet about me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> High School AU (OK I made it community college)
> 
> Harrison Kip/Carlos/Maureen
> 
> Professor Kip is in awe of Carlos the Scientist and tries to ask him out. Maureen is Prof Kip's student, but Cecil is her boss at NVCR. Her loyalty is clear.

Carlos stormed into Principal Sultan's office and ranted.  
"Harrison Kip is the best professor you have here, he's a GENIUS! How can you even DARE think about firing him? It's DERANGED! Who will teach your palaeo-"  
Principal Sultan was not moved, She sat like a rock, grey-faced and impassive. Professor Kip stood behind the raging scientist, blushing at the endorsement and praise tumbling from Professor Scientist's mouth. Principal Sultan cut in quietly.  
"Professor, hiring and firing is up to the academic personnel committee, chaired by me. Professor Kip's case was very clear. He is in breach of contract and may no longer teach classes at Night Vale Community College. I am sorry but-"  
"You are not sorry at all! You've been pushing him out for months! You can't just fire someone because they say something you don't like! It was good science! You're firing him for GOOD SCIENCE! It's... it's..."  
"It's okay, Carlos." Professor Kip sighed. "It's okay. I'll find something else, there's a private company over in Desert Bluffs looking for scientists. I could- "  
Principal Sultan's face cracked slightly. Colour drained from her chiselled features and her complexion turned to chalk. "Now, Harrison, please don't be so hasty to leave town. Perhaps I can speak to the college funding committee later and get you reinstated in some paid capacity. Maybe if you could promise to stay off, um, certain unauthorised topics we could make it a written warning on your file instead of... instead of... yes. Well."  
Carlos turned to the archaeologist and hugged him, just for a second.  
"See! You get to keep your job!"  
Harrison reddened perceptibly and turned his nervous grimace to Principal Stone-face Sultan then to Carlos, who was beaming openly. Carlos took his elbow and steered him out of the office. Kip took a deep breath and asked, "Wouldyouliketohaveadrinkwithmetocelebrate?"

Harrison was at the bar early. He sat at a discreetly located table where he could see the door and played with his phone, mostly googling the differences between dinosaur fossils and dragons in case one of his students had leaked his latest research. Every time the door swung open and whupped shut his heart leapt into his mouth and his stomach dropped. Four times it wasn't Carlos.  
He sighed and started a game of solitaire. Halfway through his third game, the chair opposite him moved. He looked up, almost dropping his phone.  
"Scuse me, is this seat taken?"  
Harrison almost panicked as a hand started pulling Carlos's vacant chair away.  
"Um, yes, it will be soon. I'm waiting for someone, they will be here any minute."  
"Oh, okay. Sorry."  
He went back to his game. After a few minutes the chair moved again. He was about to bark out _it's taken!_ when he realised Carlos was sitting down and looking around. His smile froze when Carlos asked, "Where's everyone else?"

Harrison got through a quick drink, excused himself and left. It wasn't a date, he told himself. It wasn't, what hurt was that Carlos hadn't even considered that a date was a possibility. He sat at home and put the radio on for company. It did not help one bit.

In class next day, Maureen thought Professor Kip seemed distracted. Usually he was alert to the mood in the class, able to joke when bad puns would get students back on track, frown menacingly when assignments were late, and respond cleverly to curveball questions. Today he was listless. He lectured rather than informed, growled when students got restless and set extra homework because someone asked if they could have a field trip to _Jurassic Park._  
Maureen slipped out at the end, accidentally forgetting to hand in her assignment on _Brush choice for the modern dig supervisor._ She found it in her bag later and went to Professor Kip's office to apologise and beg him to mark it leniently.  
She knocked on his door, There was no answer and she could hear voices from inside. She waited on a seat in the corridor, unable to avoid eavesdropping in the cheaply-built, thin-walled building.  
"... so embarrassed. I dread to think what impression I gave."  
"Ha! That's classic. You know you'll be single forever at this rate. I could set you up with-"  
"Absolutely not! No. Ugh this is horrible. I can't think!"  
"Well, call and ask him out properly. Then you'll know."  
"Hm. I only want to know if the answer is yes."  
"It's for the best, Harry, he's an interloper. They never last long."

The door opened and a laughing teaching assistant strode out. Maureen got up to knock on the professor's door again. There was no reply. His telephone rang and she heard him answer.  
 _Hello, Professor Kip speaking. Oh! Hi Carlos! Yes, sorry about having to rush off like that. No, no, not at all, it's fine. Listen, can I ask for your help again? Academic this time? I need some ideas for teaching radioactive dating, as you can imagine we have, um, problems with, um, dating around here. Oh? Yes, come over after my class tomorrow. I can show you my.... Hah! Yes, a "hot topic" indeed. Okay! See you tomorrow. Look forw... Oh."_  
Maureen frowned. She knocked on the professor's door for the third time. He called, "come in," and she went inside. Professor Kip sat in his chair, tapping his fingers and frowning. She handed over her essay.  
"Sorry professor, I forgot to hand this in today after class."  
"Oh? Put it on the pile. I have not started marking so you're lucky this time."  
"Thank you. Are you okay, professor?"  
"Of course? Why wouldn't I be?"

Harrison was _weird_ during the class's next lecture, they all agreed in sign language, furtive notes and exchanges of That Look. He talked fast, stopped for up to a minute at a time, repeated himself and must have lost track because he accidentally unlocked the lecture room and let them out ten minutes early. Maureen hung back, pretended to drop something and ducked under the tiered seating, peering out from between two fold-up desks.  
She only had to wait a couple of minutes. Professor Scientist came in carrying a thick book that looked as if it was leaking streamers.  
"Hi Professor Kip, is this a good time?"  
"Yes, it's fine. Um, sit here?" Harrison pulled a chair over to the Professors' Control Desk with the sliders and buttons for things like the projector and the lights and the electrified floor.  
"I brought you a book. I've put colour-coded markers in the helpful sections."  
Carlos held out the book. Harrison took it, accidentally brushing fingers and blushing, looking away.  
"That is so thoughtful! Um, can I say thank you over lunch? Not in the cafeteria here, unless you like educational additives. I had something else I wanted to ask you about. Something, um, more personal."  
"That's such a kind offer, Harry, but I have to go. You know, science."

Maureen waited for Carlos to leave. Professor Kip still sat at the front desk. He covered his face with his hands and shook his head. She emerged as quietly as she could and walked down the steps. She sat on the chair Carlos vacated.  
"Professor."  
"Uh?" Harrison removed his hands from his face. "What the hell are you doing here?"  
"You have a crush on Carlos?"  
"No! That would be stu... Ugh. How obvious is it?"  
"Very. You need to stop."  
"What the...? How dare you!"  
"Never ask him out again. He's not yours."

Harrison stared at the upstart college student in front of him.  
"You want him yourself? Girl, he's not interested in a sweet young thing like you."  
He watched her face redden and her expression change, ready for anger and tears. She burst into laughter.  
"What exactly is your problem, young lady?"  
"Oh glowing clouds, me and Carlos? Ridiculous. And me? There's nothing [sweet about me!](http://youtu.be/qvuyYj5ROmk)"  
"Then why are you so keen for me to back off?"  
Maureen counted on her fingers. "One, surely you can see he's not interested in you. Two, he is interested in someone else but hasn't completely worked it out yet, and, three, that someone else is my boss over at the radio station where I'm interning. My internship gets me more credits than your course so my loyalty is, grudgingly, with Cecil Palmer."  
Harrison sat back again.  
"Carlos and the Voice of Night Vale? Cecil isn't joking on his show?"  
"Professor, as far as I can tell, Cecil has no sense of humour."

Maureen stood up to go. Halfway to the door Professor Kip called after her.  
"What if I go ahead anyway? Why would you even care?"  
"Suit yourself. Remember Telly the barber? Wanna be lecturing cacti out in the sand wastes? Me neither."  
Harrison shuddered. Maureen half-smiled and left him to think.

Carlos frowned at his phone. He thought Harrison was odd, but less odd than most of the locals. He was certainly very welcoming and friendly. He read the email again.  
 _Hi Carlos, thanks for the book, it was really useful. I'll give it to one of my students who interns at the radio station to give to Cecil and he can return it to you for me. Warm regards, Harrison_  
He sighed. It was getting really difficult to keep friends in this town. At least Cecil seemed nice. Maybe he should call and ask to meet for coffee.


	26. Going down?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trope: meet in an elevator  
> Marcus/Earl/Jake
> 
> Marcus gets stuck in the service elevator with newly qualified chef Earl. It would be a shame to waste all that lovely food and wine he's transporting down to the second floor. Jake is not impressed.

The elevator was busy. Marcus groaned when the doors opened to reveal a group of suit-wearing, grey-faced office workers all staring blankly up and right at the little number above the buttons that told them this was not their floor.  
"We could take the stairs, sir."  
The elevator doors closed and it rumbled away. Marcus turned to Jake. "Seriously? I can't believe there's no private elevator. Fix this, Jake. I'm not going down in public."  
Marcus sniggered and Jake rolled his eyes. "Okay Mr Vansten, I'll see what I can do."  
Marcus sat opposite the elevators and watched another packed one arrive and depart while Jake walked off to find someone in charge of services. He came back a few minutes later, smiling. "This way, sir, there's a service elevator you can use. It's not great, but at least you won't have to share."  
Jake led Marcus along the carpeted corridor, through a plain door into a dim passageway with bare plaster and exposed pipes. He turned, glanced at Marcus. "You okay, sir?"  
"Keep moving. Get me, y'know, outta here."

A beige-clad employee met them at the service elevator.  
"You get in, sir. I'll operate the control with a key. It won't stop for anyone else unless they also have a key."  
Marcus frowned. "Jake, did you forget my briefcase?"  
"I thought you had it, sir. I'll get it. I'll meet you at the bottom."  
Jake waited to see Marcus safely inside the service elevator and it creaked downwards. He returned to the main elevators, reassured the security guard who was poking fearfully at Marcus's abandoned briefcase, picked it up and headed for the stairs. He smiled when he felt the weight of the gold plated briefcase in his hand. He knew it was empty, all the important documents were in his own plain titanium document case.

The service elevator creaked and shuddered, but it was spacious and empty. Marcus sighed and closed his eyes. He would get back to his office and ask Jake to drive him somewhere quiet in the Porsche, maybe a little too fast, and they could sit until he felt like teasing Jake to see him fluster and roll his eyes. He had lovely eyes, sometimes hazel, sometimes green and amber, and he didn't seem to mind when Marcus stared into them.  
The elevator juddered to a halt and the door was opened from outside. Marcus opened his eyes.  
"Jake, I want to... Oh!"  
Marcus scowled and shuffled aside. A man who wasn't Jake got into the elevator, wheeling a trolley. The man wore a white jacket and colourful harlequin pants. He turned with an easy smile.  
"Oh! It's you! Hello Marcus!"  
"Earl. Huh. What are you doing in my elevator?"

Earl pointed at the trolley and at his uniform. “I have a new job. I’m a chef. I have to deliver this thing I made to someone down on the second floor.”  
“Another new job?”  
“Yeah, you know I’m versatile.”  
“Mmhmm, flexible too as I recall.”  
“And a quick study.”  
“Heh! You read me fast. You see much of Jake these days? I'm keeping him busy.”  
Earl grinned. “Not as much as I’d like. He’s totally into someone else. I’m his consolation prize.”  
Marcus frowned. “Jake's in lo…? Whatever.”

They rode the slow, clanking elevator in silence for a few seconds. Earl tried not to laugh but couldn’t help smirking at Marcus’s downcast face.  
“Jake comes to me when he needs what he won't take from the person he thinks he wants, but I’ll still be there when he finally gets what he’s afraid to let himself have and realises it’s not what he needed after all.”  
“Oh.” Marcus frowned as he processed this sentence. “What?”  
Earl laughed. The elevator jerked and creaked.  
“Are we still moving?”  
“No, it does this.” Earl made a brief phone call. “They’ll fix it in a few minutes if they're not too busy.”  
“So. Who’s this person he’s hung up on? Not that I care or anything.”  
Earl frowned slightly at Marcus.

“You can stop pretending you don't care, Marcus. I didn’t work for you for long but I know you. You’re jealous.”  
“Am not! Of who?”  
“Of me because when you drive Jake away you know where he comes. In a manner of speaking.” Earl grinned, head down, looked up at Marcus and waggled his eyebrows.  
Marcus went red, turned his face away and stared at the wall. He gritted his teeth and folded his arms tight.  
“Whatever.”  
“Are you feeling okay, Marcus?”  
“I’m fine.”  
Earl dropped his expression back to normal. He sighed. “And you’re jealous of this hypothetical person Jake would choose over me if he knew he wasn't a plaything. And that’s really, _really_ dumb. You’ll work out why if you think about it.”

Marcus turned on Earl.  
“You say I drive Jake to you. Is that what _he_ says? Or are you just fucking with me for entertainment?”  
Earl put his hands up and stepped back a little.  
“Marcus, I went too far, I’m sorry. But yeah, since you ask, you push him away. He calls you _relentless_ and _predatory_ when you try to erode his boundaries. He feels safe with me. You make him feel like prey.”  
“WHAT! He said that?”  
“Near enough. He’s cornered by the way you treat him and the way he feels about you.”  
“Huh? The way he feels about me?”  
“Marcus, you think he works for you because the pay is good? When I met Jake, he only intended to stay a year until he had enough money saved to… something. I never bothered listening to that part. How long has he been with you now?”

Marcus scowled at the wall.  
"Travel. He wants to travel. You're fucking him and you don't even know what he wants."  
Earl went quiet and examined the cooling contents of his trolley.  
Marcus continued. "He's shy but hides it. He's an all or nothing man. And you get nothing. Fucking you is just a release for him, not a feeling you share. Hmm. When you hook up, it's his decision, right? Not yours. How many times has he turned you down?"  
Earl went red. He banged down the cover on the too-cold main dish so hard the porcelain plate cracked. He closed his eyes and breathed in deep, out slow. He opened his eyes and looked at Marcus.  
"I don't keep count."  
"Earl, how the fuck do we fix this?"

They sat, leaning against opposite walls, parallel legs out in front, eating the best food Marcus had ever tasted and drinking some pretty decent wine. Marcus summarised.  
"Heh. I want Jake. Jake wants me, but doesn't trust me. You want Jake, Jake doesn't love you but he trusts you. This is fucked up."  
"Yes."  
"Mmm great tiramisu."  
"Secret's in the nutmeg."  
"Heh."  
"Marcus, you know why I left?"  
"You said I wasn't your type or whatever."  
"Mmm. Might've..."  
"Uh?"  
"haddan idea."  
"Oh?"  
"'bout Jake. More?"  
"Yeah. What?"  
Earl closed his eyes and groaned. "Third bottlea zin was _real_ bad idea but this sau... sauternes s'good. I am _so. Fucking. Fired."_

Marcus laughed.  
"Whatif Ahgiv youajob?"  
"Oh?"  
"Yeah. I gottanidea. Mebbe a baddun. Whatever."  
"Ah'm listnin"  
'I gotta place, usetabea club bu'not 'nymore. Needta makeit summatelse, needa persnta lookaftrit."  
"Restaurant? Hmmm?"  
"Hmm, mebbe. Uptayou ifyawanna. Whaddawe do'bout our luv-lee Jake?"  
There was a _clunk_ and a screech of metal on metal and a lurch. Marcus smiled and thought about Jake waiting for him in the lobby.

Jake surveyed the scene calmly. He escorted his tired and emotional boss and his tired and emotional occasional lover to the company limo. He instructed the driver to take them all to Vansten Mansion.

Marcus woke up in a bed that smelled as familiar as home but felt wrong, rougher, with a headache and a raging thirst. He reached for the phone that should be by the bed but a hand intercepted his.  
"Drink this."  
Marcus sat up, with help. His head pounded and his stomach rebelled. An arm supported his shoulders and a glass reached his lips.  
"mmnnNNgh ugh what IS that?"  
Jake laughed. "It's Earl's special hangover cure. I promise you don't want the recipe."  
"Jake? Oh thank fuck. Where am I?"  
"You're in my bed. I let Earl wake up in yours. He has been there before, right? He knows you pretty well?"  
"Heh heh. Just once but... Huh, where did you sleep?"  
"I better go check on Earl. Will you be okay here for now? There's stuff for you in the shower room."  
"Heh. Mmm."

Earl groaned when Jake handed him a glass of thick, green liquid. "Thanks. You remembered the magic ingredient?"  
"Tipped in a whole bottle of _essence of placebo._ Drink it."  
"Ugh. Nasty. That stuff works better if you dilute it more."  
"You and Marcus were unusually talkative. Do you remember much of last night?"  
"I refuse to remember. I refuse to have embarrassing flashbacks all day. Drunks talk all shades of shit."  
"Ha! Go get in the shower, there's a clean robe in there, then come to my apartment for breakfast."

By the time Earl joined Marcus in Jake's little kitchen for coffee and carbohydrates, they had remembered enough of the previous evening to be unable to look at each other without blushing. Jake breezed in and poured coffee for himself.  
"Right. Earl, there's a chef position available now in one of Marcus's smaller bar-restaurants. It's not haute cuisine but if you can afford to wait there's potentially a better post coming up, he's trying to persuade a celebrity chef to put his name to a new place but you'd basically be running it. Marcus, housekeeping will have finished with your room in about half an hour and I think I've dealt with the budding rumours in an appropriate manner. I know you like to keep your image up with your political ambitions and so on. By lunchtime half the town will know there was a three-way at Vansten Mansion."  
They both muttered _thanks_ without looking up from their coffee cups.  
Jake sniggered. "Oh, had some flashbacks?"  
The two subdued men nodded.  
"Get over it. As for what _really_ happened here last night--"  
"[Our lips are sealed.](http://youtu.be/rqQT3oKA3v8)"


	27. All I wanna do is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trope: Body swap  
> Marcus/Jake
> 
> Marcus and Jake wake up in each other's beds, each wondering what on earth happened. A look in the mirror provides an explanation.  
> It is a revealing experience for both of them.

Jake didn't remember going to bed last night, but he was pretty sure it was morning now and he didn't know where he was. Everything felt wrong, like he didn't fit any more, didn't know who he was. He rubbed his eyes and his hands felt like they belonged to someone else. He forced his eyes open and sat up.  
"Fuck! Oh no... no..."  
He looked around, fortunately he was the only occupant of the huge bed with the red silk sheets and the canopy. The only warm spot was the area in which he lay. Jake may have woken up in his employer's bed, but at least he was alone.  
He got up and padded, naked, to the bathroom and got in the shower. He faced the wall as he borrowed expensive products to wash his hair, aware that even his head felt wrong, his hair somehow finer in texture than he expected. Jake finished his shower, reached out for a towel, saw his reflection and yelled.

Marcus stretched and smiled. He recognised the scent of the sheets and their slight harshness. Jake always refused to swap to silk. This was the second time he had woken up in his assistant's bed and Marcus fervently hoped he hadn't been disgustingly drunk this time. The fact that he couldn't remember worried him. He pretended to be asleep to prolong the experience of lying in someone else's warmth. He reached out slowly, trying to make it look accidental, but there was nobody else in Jake's bed. He thought it was probably a good thing since he appeared to have woken up in a state of arousal.  
Some time later when Jake had not come to wake him, feed him Earl's disgusting hangover smoothie, make him coffee and generally fuss over him, Marcus sighed and opened his eyes. At least his erection had dissipated, Jake might have been uncomfortable about it. He sighed again. Perhaps if he got up and made some noise, Jake would hear and come look after him.  
Marcus sat up and scratched his head. He felt fitter than he had in ages. He tested his joints and found that nothing hurt, nothing stiffened or complained when he moved. He thought it odd that Jake's phone was by the bed and his was nowhere to be seen.  
He got up, went into Jake's little shower room and yelled at Jake's reflection in the mirror.

Jake, dried and dressed in Marcus's robe, knocked on his own apartment door, realised how out of character it looked and walked in. He saw himself wearing clean pyjamas, heard his own voice.  
"Heh. Figures."  
"Mr Vansten, what the hell happened to us?"  
Jake watched his shoulders shrug.  
"Dunno. What did we do last night?"  
"I can't remember, sir."  
"Huh. If we're wearing each other's bodies you'd think we'd be on first name terms, hmm?"  
"Sir, I am trying very hard not to call you _Jake."_

Marcus laughed with Jake's voice. Jake smiled.  
"Okay _Marcus_ , coffee then we think of who we know that can fix this."  
Jake took Marcus's body to the kitchen and fiddled with the coffee machine. Marcus made a phone call.  
 _Hi, Josie? Yeah. Listen, this is gonna sound weird or whatever, but this is Marcus Vansten. Yeah, yep, that one. Yep, it's me, uh-huh. If I send a car, can you come over? Like, right now? Oh. Right after that? Okay. No, we'll be careful."_  
Jake handed coffee to Marcus and watched his smile as he drank, eyes closed and calm. Marcus sat back.  
"Josie knows something is up, but she can't get here until after lunch. Something about Erika and a demon. She says in the meantime to stay here and stay together. Says our identities might get mixed up if we try to pass as each other."  
"Josie can fix this?"  
"Jake, Josie can fix almost anything."

Marcus felt oddly uncomfortable. Jake was wearing his body and his robe. The robe was tied the way Marcus liked it, everything hidden as long as he stood still but an occasional flash of flesh when he moved. It was part of the design of the garment, he liked the feeling of freedom. But seeing Jake dressed like that was unsettling. Jake caught him staring.  
"Like what you see, sir? Because that would be seriously weird."  
Marcus went red and looked away.  
"Are you comfortable dressed like that?"  
"Yes, it's surprising. I like how it feels. Didn't think I would. You want a robe too? I could get you one if you want."  
"No! No, whatever. It's... Look, this is freaking me out a little. Nudity doesn't bother me, huh? You know that. But seeing you like that is... kinda... ugh, I don't know how to describe it. It's doing weird things to my concentration and my... my..."  
"Your...?"  
"Excuse me." Marcus left the room and went into Jake's bedroom. He breathed deeply but that made it worse, seeing Jake almost naked, breathing in the scent of his room, he put his hand on the front of his pyjama pants, felt his hardness, imagined what he could do if Jake came in and touched him, gave permission, led him down onto the bed and--  
"Marcus? Sir? Are you okay in there?"  
"Don't come in!"

Marcus sat on the edge of the bed and thought of anything else but Jake naked and sprawled over the cotton sheets. He touched his erection again, knowing he shouldn't and that made it better and worse all at the same time. He curled up, bringing his knees up to his chest and buried his face.  
"Jake?"  
Jake went into his bedroom.  
"Marcus! Are you hurt?"  
"No. I'm just... uh, do you think... whatever. Please don't be upset, I didn't do anything."  
Marcus uncurled and Jake saw the reason for his distress.  
"Marcus, that must happen to you too, you control it. I guess having a different body, one that reacts differently makes it _harder."_  
"Jake, that's not fucking funny."

"Ignore it and it will go away. Does that never happen to you, sir?"  
"Jake, when I look at you now, especially when you look so damn _hot_ it's all I can do to remember my name. I just _want you_ and I'm not used to it. I don't feel anything like this torture. Is this what it's like for you all the time?"  
Jake laughed. "No, not all the time. It comes and goes."  
Marcus groaned.  
"Marcus, when I see someone attractive I think about fucking them. It just pops into my head, it doesn't mean I'm going to, or that I even want to really. It's just there. I can ignore it or I can let it take over and... never mind. Don't you get the same feelings?  
"No. Never. When I look at you normally, I think about what it would be like to see you nude, touch you, hug and maybe kiss you. I don't want to do anything more. Jake, despite everything you think you know about me, I do not want to fuck you."  
"Huh. You don't have sex?"  
"No. I made Earl sign a confidentiality document that he would never deny any rumours about our relationship. Truth is, he wanted sex and I didn't. I _can,_ but I don't want to. I wanted to look at him, he thought it was weird."

Marcus buried his face in Jake's pillows. "This is so embarrassing. Nobody knows except you, Earl and a couple of key employees hired to add to the local rumour mill. Who ever heard of a successful businessman and politician who doesn't demand sex?"  
Jake sat on the edge of the bed.  
"Sir? I kind of get it, maybe. Yesterday when you were joking about how I had a _surprise coming_ and how we should _go down in the basement_ I was fighting not to call your bluff and I guess you can imagine the scenes playing in my head. Today, I can see why you think it's funny when you wind me up. Cruel, though, and you should stop. Sometimes I have to leave the room because, well. You know now."  
"This is not how I imagined telling you how I feel about you."  
"Me neither, sir."  
"Fuck."  
"No thanks, sir. Hug?"

Jake held his hand out to Marcus and led him back to the living room. They sat on the sofa. Jake borrowed a pair of shorts from his own underwear drawer and tied Marcus's robe more securely. Marcus curled up, hugging his knees. Jake sprawled.  
"Sir, what exactly do you want from me? Personally, I mean."  
"I dunno. Intimacy I guess, y'know, closeness. Or whatever."  
"Huh."  
"What do you want from me?"  
"Mmm. I used to think about sex with you while I... never mind. Imagining what it would feel like to hold you down and--"  
"Please skip the details."  
"Sorry. I don't want to do that any more. When I thought you wanted to fuck me it felt okay to fantasise but it feels wrong now."  
"There's always Earl."  
Jake laughed. "You want me to call him for you? [Get off](http://youtu.be/ON6pn6suSzc) before we get back to normal?"  
"Fuck off, Jake."

Marcus's phone rang. Shortly after, Josie arrived with a couple of tall figures neither man could quite focus on. She stared deep into their eyes, one at a time, squinting and speaking a language Jake didn't recognise. She laughed and clapped her hands.  
"Ya sit there and don't move whatever ya think ya see or feel. Shut yer eyes tight."  
They sat back to back leaning on each other in the middle of the floor as Josie set out bloodstones and chanted.  
Jake felt his entire body tingle as if electrified. His skin prickled and burned. His muscles tensed and he fought the urge to scream and run. He dropped his chin to his chest and thought about Marcus.  
"Open yer eyes boys. Whaddaya see?"  
Jake looked down to see pyjamas. He turned and saw Marcus, familiar Marcus, eyes closed and breathing deep to control his feelings like he always did when he was upset. Jake threw his arms around Marcus and held him until he stopped shaking.  
Josie collected her things and left quietly muttering _Where next, Erika? When I catch this demon it's for the void, I swear. We don't want more of this mischief in our town._

That evening, Jake lifted his hand ready to knock on Marcus's door but just opened it and walked in. Marcus was in his living room.  
"I brought you something."  
"A gift?"  
Jake handed over a small box. "I expect you won't wear it and that's okay, but I want you to have it. It's onyx set in gold."  
Marcus opened the box and smiled at the gold and black band. "This is really beautiful, Jake. Thank you." Marcus cupped his hand around Jake's head and pulled him into a brief kiss. Jake took the ring from the box, held Marcus's right hand and slipped the ring onto his middle finger.  
"You're right I probably won't wear it much. I have a reputation, y'know."  
Jake laughed. "Whatever."


	28. What's in a name?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trope: Genderbend  
> Teenage Cecil/Earl/Marcus
> 
> Cecil has a stressful day. He has an argument with his family, a job interview and a horrible teacher. Thank goodness for friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With thanks to the brilliant BBCotaku for beta-ing and improving my style :o)

Cecil glanced at the mirror. He was tall enough to carry the suit off properly. That made it easier. He put on the grey pleat-front creased pants along with plain socks and black shoes, looked at the choice of shirts on his clothes rail and picked the lilac one. His white compression vest was laid out ready and he pulled it on. The hem caught, rolling up in itself near his armpits but it always did that. He hooked his index fingers under the rolled up lycra mix, wrestled it out and down until the hem appeared, gripped it firmly and pulled down over his breasts. He tucked it into his pants waistband, a little loose for now, and put the shirt on, tucking it in too. Cecil looped suspenders over the top, tied his magenta tie then briefly looked in the mirror. Front view, side view, yeah. With the waistcoat and jacket and a slight shoulder hunch nobody would look twice at his chest and the cut of the waistcoat hid his narrow waist.  
Hair flopped over one eye, Cecil flicked it back and rubbed the soft skin on his jaw. At least he was young enough that nobody would question the lack of shadow by the end of the day. He was ready.

Cecil slung his bag over a shoulder, took a deep breath and headed downstairs. His sister's voice met him halfway and he stopped, gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, considered the merits of punching the wall again.  
"Celia! You're gonna be late for your interview!"  
Cecil stood still, concentrated on breathing until his anger passed. He continued downstairs. In the kitchen, Jan was busy with the coffee maker.  
"My name is Cecil."  
"Whatever. Want breakfast?"  
Anger bubbled up again. Cecil clasped his fingers together and squeezed hard, focusing on pain instead of giving in to rage.  
"No, I'd puke."  
Jan turned round and saw Cecil's outfit.  
"Shit, Celia, you have an interview. Put on a fucking dress and smile."

"MY NAME IS CECIL!"  
"Right. You actually going out dressed like that?"  
"Dressed. Like. What."  
"Like... that." Jan waved a hand up and down at Cecil's outfit. "What they gonna say when you do the interview calling yourself Cecil and it says Celia on your resume? Or if you get the job and have to hand in copies of your birth certificate?"  
Cecil turned and left the house completely. It wasn't the first time his sister had refused to acknowledge who he was. Mom hadn't really understood but at least accepted it. After he told her a few times he wasn't her daughter, she used his real name and mostly remembered to say _he_ and _him_. But she wasn't around. Neither was his brother, thank all the gods. It was just him and Jan at home.  
At least there was one place he could go.

"Hi Cecil! Wow you look smart. Come on in, Earl's in the kitchen."  
Cecil smiled at Mrs Harlan and scooted through to see Earl. Earl handed him a cup of coffee.  
"Bad morning? Hug?"  
"Not the worst, Jan's an asshole. Yes please."  
"It's at ten, right? Want mom to drive you? She would if you asked."  
"Nah, I'll be fine on the bus."  
"MOM CAN YOU DRIVE CECIL TO HIS INTERVIEW?"  
"YEAH OKAY."  
"CAN I SKIP SCHOOL AND COME TOO?"  
"NICE TRY HONEY, NO WAY."

"Hey, can you get the whole day off school for this?"  
Cecil grinned. "If I can spin it out, I will."  
"Ooh, better idea. Ace your interview then come to school in that outfit. It's really... umm..."  
"If you say _convincing_ I will hurt you."  
"No! I mean kinda but not like that. I was going to say _hot_ actually."  
"Earl!"  
Earl shrugged. "You are. Deal with it. You'll make Marcus stare."  
Cecil sniggered. "Nah, it's you he wants, preferably in your scout uniform. Preferably removing it slowly while he--"  
"Shut up!" Earl hid his blush by turning to the sink to do the washing up.

Mrs Harlan dropped Earl off at school and Cecil at the radio station.  
"Good luck honey, you can do this."  
"Thanks."  
Cecil walked into the radio station building and went to the reception desk.  
"Hi, I'm Cecil Palmer, I have an interv--"  
"Oh?" The intern at the desk frowned and looked at Cecil. "We have you here as _Celia._ Must be a mistake. Take a seat, I'll update our records and write you a new badge."  
Cecil smiled. "Thanks."  
The intern brought Cecil a name badge a few minutes later. Before long, he was escorted through to meet the Voice of Night Vale.

Leonard Burton was a large man. Cecil hovered near the door.  
"Confidence, man! You want to work in radio you need to learn to speak out."  
"Sorry, sir, it's just disconcerting to put a face to the Voice at last."  
Leonard laughed. Cecil walked into the room and held out his hand. Leonard shook hands and pointed at a seat.  
"You know this is a formality? You're going to replace me one day. Says so at City Hall but I'm not retiring until I know you're up to the job."  
"Uh? City Hall?"  
"Lesson one - learn how to ask questions and never get intimidated. Want to ask that again?"  
"Mr Burton, what does it say about me at City Hall?"  
"That's better!" Leonard laughed. "Call me Leonard. I think I better get you a voice coach before you get any airtime. You sound like a..."  
Cecil held his breath.  
"...teenager. Intern Al will show you around and take copies of your documents. Of course," Leonard smiled at Cecil, "We already know who you are, Cecil. The stone tablets were clear about that."

After a tour of the studios, a chat with the other interns and coffee in the combined break room and cemetery, Cecil found himself back outside the station building by noon clutching a letter that would get him three afternoons a week off school to carry out his intern duties. He almost skipped to the bus stop.

The closer the bus trundled to school, the worse Cecil felt. He checked his watch, he would arrive at the start of lunch. He could sign in, hand in his letter and go find Earl in the canteen. The afternoon had two hours of _Classic American Biography_ with a teacher who stuck by all the rules.  
That meant he would have to sit in class while the register was read out, in order, with his birth name. And he would have to endure the giggles and stares as he replied.  
Or he could be late and have detention.  
Earl was in the canteen, in their usual corner. Cecil sat opposite and grinned.  
"You got it! That's awesome! Tell me everything later, I want to know what goes on inside that building. Don't look round but I think Marcus might be drooling a little. Dare you to sit next to him in class this afternoon. Make him come in his pants."  
"Earl!" Cecil snorted, then his face fell.  
"Seriously, I'm gonna get detention tonight for being late again. I'm having a pretty good day so far and don't wanna spoil it. You know nobody cared? At the station, when I said I was Cecil they were all _oh? okay, we'll change our files_ and that was it. It wasn't a big deal for anyone."  
Earl shrugged. "Why would it be?"

Earl and Cecil went outside when the canteen got busy.  
"I have a better idea about this afternoon. Might still end up in detention though."  
"Oh?"  
"Don't respond until your real name is called."  
"I tried that, she just yells _Celia!_ even louder."  
"Stick it out, don't give in. Make a thing of it. I'll back you up, you know that, right?"  
"Huh."

Cecil followed Earl into class, the last ones in but not late. There were two empty seats, one next to Marcus, one behind. Earl ran for the seat behind Marcus. Cecil rolled his eyes and sat down.  
"Hi Cecil, nice suit."  
"Hi Marcus. Don't start on me today."  
"What? No! I mean I like your suit. It looks good on you."  
"Oh? Sorry. I'm a bit nervous this afternoon. I'm gonna--"  
"Quiet for the register, class. Nazr?"  
"Here."

Eventually it was Cecil's turn.  
"Celia?" Cecil did not respond.  
"Celia?"  
"CELIA?"  
Marcus nudged Cecil's arm with his elbow. Cecil nudged back harder making him rub his arm and scowl.  
"Celia, you have to respond to your name."  
"I will respond to my name when you say it. I'm Cecil."  
"That's not what it says on the register. This is an official legal document. Your official legal name is Celia."  
"No. My name is Cecil."

The rest of the class was silent for an uncomfortable moment, then someone giggled.  
"Celia, hey Celia, nice suit Cee-liaa!"  
Earl's voice came from behind. "He's called Cecil."  
Marcus was next. "Cecil."  
Others joined in, banged tables and made it a chant. "Ce-cil! Ce-cil!"  
Cecil started to cry. Marcus put an arm around him.  
"You gonna wipe your nose on the sleeve of that gorgeous suit? Let's go."  
Cecil looked up at the front of the room but the teacher had already left. Marcus escorted Cecil out and Earl followed them into the corridor and around the corner out of sight of the classroom door.

From their refuge, the three boys heard the head of department roar at their class, followed by intense silence. She came round the corner a minute later.  
"You three care to take a seat in my room? I'll be there in a minute."  
Cecil's stomach dropped to his shoes as he shuffled past his classroom to the next one along, flanked by his friends. The room was empty. They sat around the corner of a table. The head of department came in and sat opposite.  
"Want to tell me what just happened? Cecil?"  
Cecil shook his head.  
"Okay. Can you write it down?"  
He nodded.  
"You two also, written statements please, best handwriting, good grammar, _yes, that means you too, Vansten! You think your family business wants an illiterate heir?_ and check your spelling, Harlan. We have standards here. You can catch up your classwork in here if you don't want to go back to class."  
Marcus sighed, pushed his legs out and flopped back against the seat back. "What _ever!"_

Near the end of the afternoon, Earl was allowed to stay with Cecil but Marcus was sent back to class. Their teacher came in and perched on a desk.  
"Why did you disrupt my lesson?"  
"You got Cecil's name wrong."  
"So what? It's on the register. It's her legal name." She turned to Cecil. "Calling yourself Cecil isn't going to change anything."  
Earl scowled. "His. His legal name."  
"You're not old enough to decide--"  
Cecil cut in.  
"How old were you when you _decided_ you were female?"  
"What?"  
"How old were you when you decided to be a girl?"  
"Uh? I didn't decide, I just knew."  
"Me too, only I'm a boy. It's not something I woke up one day and _decided._ It's what I _am."_  
"Well why does it matter what you're called? You've been called Celia for years."  
"Because every time you cALL ME CELIA YOU ERASE WHO I REALLY AM! Like I don't exist."  
"I don't understand why--"  
"Why do you have to understand?" Earl spoke up when Cecil couldn't. "Can't you just call him Cecil without needing a reason? You don't ask why I'm called Earl and not Nazr or Susan. You just accept that Earl is my name. Is it even any of your business whether a student is male or female or neither?"  
The teacher frowned and left the room. Earl hugged Cecil, who was crying again. He spoke quietly in Cecil's ear.  
"What. A. Cow. Careful! No snot on the suit or Marcus will cry too."

Cecil accepted a lift home and an invitation to stay for dinner. Earl's mom drove them in silence. They sat at the kitchen table with homework while Earl's mom made coffee.  
"Busy day, boys?"  
"Yeah. Mom--"  
"I got a phone call."  
"Oh."  
"Yeah. You gonna be okay, Cecil?"  
"Mmhmm. I got a job to go to next week. Until then I feel like I'm [waiting for my real life to begin](http://youtu.be/m4tcRlHY-3Q)." Cecil relaxed, he didn't have to pretend to be happy to please Earl's mom. She turned to look at his downcast frown.

"That's wonderful, honey!" She smiled. "I am so proud of you both."


	29. Love me forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trope: Clothes sharing  
> Marcus/Jake (and maybe Earl)
> 
> Marcus and Jake have a work party to attend. Marcus wants Jake to look good and lends him a suit. He has plans for a couple of important announcements but Jake doesn't react in quite the way Marcus expects.

Jake ushered Marcus quickly from the limo into the function. He had booked the whole bar for Vansten Industries to celebrate Marcus's birthday.  
"Mr Vansten, there is a room reserved for you if you want to change or have some time away from the party."  
"Thank you Jake. Who has access to my room?"  
"You and me."  
Marcus held out a hand. Jake dropped another keycard into it for the benefit of the few early arrivals.  
"Who has access to _my_ room?"  
"Only you, sir."  
"Damn right."

Marcus went up to get ready for the party. Jake stood with his hands in his pockets, fingering the spare keycard. Mhairi sidled up.  
"Who will you be dragging out of his room this time? Smart money's on Ange from sales."  
Jake smiled, "No, I don't think Ange floats his boat. It's more than my job is worth to speculate."  
"Huh. After your interview we all had bets on when you and Vansten would hook up but apart from that one time when he got drunk with Earl and you took them home, you never did. Unless you're keeping it _real_ quiet."  
"Mhairi, please do us both a favour and fuck off."  
Mhairi stood on tiptoes to kiss Jake on the cheek. He smiled and shook his head as the customer experience manager stalked away to join the sales guys by the buffet table, casually looping her arm around someone's waist. The someone leaned over and kissed her before handing her a paper plate and feeding her the last bite of whatever he was eating.  
Jake looked around the room. There were only about a third of the guests here so far. Vansten wouldn't put in an official appearance until his employees were happily hazy with food and alcohol. He waved at Mhairi, blew her a kiss that she pretended to catch and went up to Vansten's room. He knocked softly, unlocked the door and went in.

Marcus stood looking at two shirts hanging from a rail.  
"Which?"  
Jake pointed without looking at the clothing.  
"At least pretend to care, Jake. And stop staring. You've seen me plenty of times. You said you were used to it."  
"Sorry sir. Uh, that one. The other is a little... umm... too formal for the venue I think. This is the first time I've seen you _entirely_ nude, sir. I can't help being distracted by the view."  
"There's only us here, Jake."  
Jake smiled. "I know, but calling you _Marcus_ still feels weird. I might slip up in public; you're my boss tonight and formality makes me more comfortable. Especially when you're..." Jake waved a hand at Marcus's physical display, "...gorgeous."  
Marcus grinned. "Whatever. Suit yourself."  
"Uh?" Jake caught the bundle his boss tossed towards him.  
"It's a pun. Clearly I don't pay you enough to laugh at my jokes. You need a decent cut suit, you've been wearing the same one for, like, three weeks or whatever. It's looking tired."  
"I don't have time for shopping... Oh wow, this is beautiful! Thanks... Marcus."  
Marcus slipped on the shirt Jake had rejected and passed him the first choice one.  
"It's not a gift, I need you to look good tonight and we are about the same size so it should fit. Put it on. There are shoes in that box. Don't worry, the shoes are new and you can keep them."

Marcus watched as Jake changed into his borrowed suit and admired himself in the wall mirror. Jake caught Marcus admiring his appearance too. They gazed at each other's reflected eyes and smiled.  
"That looks good on you. Fix my tie?"  
Jake took the tie from Marcus, slung it over his shoulder and flipped up Marcus's collar. Marcus stood with his eyes closed and a smile at the corners of his mouth. He opened his eyes again when he felt Jake adjust the position of the knot. Jake was frowning.  
"Do I still make you feel uncomfortable?"  
"Sometimes."  
Jake continued to adjust the knot.  
"Sometimes? Like now?"  
Jake shrugged. "A little. I am quite aware that I am standing within the personal space of my employer and that my employer is not wearing any pants."  
"Heh. I think my tie is done now, don't you?"  
"Yeah." Jake leaned forwards and kissed Marcus lightly.

Jake stepped back.  
"Sorry. Unprofessional."  
"Mmhmm. I'll forgive you if you do it again. Collar?"  
Jake moved in and folded Marcus's collar down neatly before resting his hands on Marcus's shoulders and kissing him gently.  
"Pass me my pants."  
Marcus dressed slowly. Eventually he took Jake's arm and pulled him to stand beside him in front of the mirror.  
"Jake, What do you see?"  
Jake frowned. "I see a well-dressed rich dude and a PA in a borrowed suit that makes him look far too handsome to be fired for being indiscreet."  
Marcus was quiet for a few seconds.  
"Heh. I meant compare the line of the suit pants. Mine look better than yours. Can you see why?"

Jake's brain raced through possibilities. He settled for the most polite answer.  
"No?"  
Marcus pointed out where the smooth fabric caught against the polycotton underneath, a line that betrayed the leg of his shorts and a crease under the backside.  
"You don't need shorts with this fabric and cut."  
"Sir, I mean Marcus, I can't go commando in your--"  
"Try it. Look at the way my pants drape and compare with yours."  
Jake frowned at Marcus. He examined the features Marcus pointed out then felt the way Marcus's pants fit his contours. Marcus laughed.  
"Heh. If anyone comes in now you're going to have fun explaining what you're doing kneeling there with your hands on my ass."

Jake jumped back up.  
"Oh shit! I didn't even realise what I was doing. Umm... I should go and..."  
"No, I'm not finished with you here yet. Sit there and read through my speech but order me some food first. I'm not eating finger food off a paper plate. Neither are you, not in that suit, so order for yourself too. And some decent wine. For us both."  
Jake phoned down a food order. In the background he could hear that the party was starting to buzz. He smiled and settled down with Marcus's speech. It started with a few seasonal platitudes, moved into a state-of-the-business section and finished with goodbyes for staff who were leaving. Jake sat bolt upright.  
"Marcus, are you _firing_ me?"  
"Wondered if you'd notice that. I have a resignation letter for you, if you want to sign it."  
"Why! Marcus, I'm really good at my job, I look after you. Your diary is a precision instrument, your profits are up, I smooth things over when business partners get offended because they don't understand how you work, I make sure you always have whatever you need even when you don't know you need it, any time day or night... This past year and a half has been... has been... Dammit Marcus, I thought you loved having me around!"  
Marcus nodded, meeting Jake's tear-filling eyes with his own puzzled expression.  
"Yeah. That's the thing."

Jake grabbed a handful of paper tissues and mopped his eyes, turning his head away. He stood up shakily.  
"I'm going to crash at Earl's if he'll let me. I'll clear my stuff out tomorrow."  
Marcus groaned.  
"Jake... Jake, sit. Please. Aah, I did this all wrong."  
Jake's knees buckled and he sat.  
"I don't want you to go, Jake. Glowing cloud I don't want that. Stay."  
"I'm unemployed!"  
"Whatever. Just stay."

Jake took another handful of paper tissues and wiped his face.  
"Since I no longer work for you, you can fuck off. I'm going. Just as soon as..."  
Jake stood up and removed the jacket of the borrowed suit, dropping it on the floor. Marcus leapt over, stood close and held his wrists.  
"Jake, listen will you?"  
Jake stood, sullen head down.  
"You are the best assistant I ever had. So goddamn perfect you won't even consider any, uh, extra dimension to our relationship. I knew the day I hired you that you'd never get into a real close personal relationship with the boss, although the elder gods know how much I tried to persuade you. So I want to know what happens if I'm not your boss. Do I stand a chance?"  
Jake closed his eyes and took three deep breaths. When he spoke, his voice was calm and controlled and quiet. He kept his eyes closed, shook a hand free and pinched the part of his nose bone between his eyes.  
"Marcus? Are you saying that you are firing me because you want to be my _boyfriend?"_

"Uh, bit more than that. I want you to marry me. But it sounds shitty when you say it out loud."  
"THAT'S BECAUSE IT'S A REALLY FUCKING SHITTY THING TO DO, ASSHOLE!"  
Marcus let Jake's wrist drop.  
"So, you're saying no?"  
Jake laughed. He sat down on the bed. He sobbed. Marcus sat beside Jake, inches between them, and held an arm just behind Jake for a moment before dropping it without touching the crying man.  
"Shit, Jake, I thought you loved me. I thought we understood each other."

Jake's distress dried to silence. He excused himself and went into the en suite to clean up his puffy face. Marcus followed and stood behind Jake in the little bathroom.  
"I'm sorry Jake. I'll get you a job in a different office. You won't be unemployed and you won't have to see me. You could manage the accountants or whatever."  
Jake mumbled something through the fluffy white towel he held over his face.  
"Whassat?"  
Jake removed the towel, turned and bored his gaze into Marcus.  
"I don't want to work somewhere else. But now I have to until I find my own job and leave properly. Marcus, we were fine. Sure there's this... this _thing_ going on between us. We flirt outrageously and you call me at stupid times for stupid reasons and I come running because I can pretend that it's only because you're my boss, not because I'm in love or whatever."  
Marcus smiled and put his arms around Jake's waist, leaned his chin on Jake's shoulder.  
"Hey, that's _my_ word."

They sat at the little round table in the corner of the room.  
"I'm sorry I upset you."  
"You are an idiot."  
"Heh."  
"This is a mess."  
"Oh?"  
"If you keep me on and we're seen out with matching rings, everyone will assume I'm a gold-digger, that I'm shallow and you're stupid. I couldn't take that. So the only solution is that [everything changes](http://youtu.be/q-Wm5vqcVqg) or nothing does."

Jake smiled as Marcus's face fell.  
"Nothing changes, as far as everyone else is concerned."  
"What, like, we have a secret?"  
"We already do."  
"Oh. I want to show you off. You always said you wouldn't fuck the boss."  
"You know I still won't."  
Marcus smiled. "Yeah. But nobody else does."  
"I better rewrite that speech and find someone I can be witnessed escorting out of your room later, then of course I'll have to come back to make sure you're okay and take you home. Then maybe we can have this conversation properly."

Jake smoothed down his suit when he got up to open the door for room service. Two trays, a bottle in a chiller and two glasses were delivered by a man in a white kitchen outfit. He set the table, head down.  
"Sorry it took ages, the front of house staff are super busy with the party." He turned. "Hi Marcus, hi Jake."  
"Hey, Earl."  
They stood staring at each other.  
Marcus took in the situation and laughed. "Heh! So you two gonna kiss each other or kill each other? I want to watch at least one of those activities."  
Jake grinned at Earl, walked over and kissed him, both hands around Earl's head. Earl's arms found Jake's waist and held tight. Marcus whistled.  
"Jake, tell me this was planned, right? You're both coming home with me tonight, yeah?"  
"Fucking knew it." Earl laughed.  
Jake looked at Earl and shrugged. Earl smiled and nodded. Jake stepped over to Marcus and kissed him too.  
"Marcus? I have a suggestion about who I'd like to find in your room later."


	30. Dead End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trope: Zombie AU  
> Cecil/Carlos/Josie/Erika
> 
> Carlos is back and looking for Cecil.  
> He's... changed.

Josie felt it. The angels were unsettled. Erika shuddered their feathers and Erika shook herself like a dog before standing up on full alert.  
"Josie, this is a demon we have not met before. We feel its hunger, its determination. Josie, take care of us all."  
"Erika, Ah take care of ma angels. Ya know Ah do."  
"This one is different. It has no anger, it is not lost, it is not confused. It knows what it wants and where it is going. Josie, it is dangerous."  
"Come on Erika, we best get on wi' findin' it. Meet me in the cellar wi' the bloodstones."

_It did not know where it was, but it was not lost. It did not care. It walked slowly and awkwardly with a limping, lurching gait through empty alleyways and backstreets, avoiding the lights and the noise. A clang and a yowl made it stop and wait, listening, but nothing came. There was no soft sand beneath its feet now. No longer in the desert wasteland, it moved faster dragging itself on a foot bent outwards at a broken ankle that caused no agony. It felt no pain, no fear, no hate, only hunger._

Cecil signed off with his usual "Goodnight listeners, goodnight." He tidied up the booth and went to say goodnight to Khoshekh and the kittens, who were all getting quite big now. He giggled as Khoshekh licked and chewed his wrist.  
"Stoppit, that tickles. Hey! You made me bleed!"  
Cecil washed his hands, stopped the bleeding with a paper towel and carefully stroked each kitten for a few seconds, collected his coat and went out into [Friday](http://youtu.be/omPSbznP2nA) night to walk home.

Erika was disturbed, it showed in their ruffling raven wings and searching head movements. Left and right, up and down, forward and behind. Erika searched for the danger it felt but saw nothing. High above, Erika soared on silent feathers of flame, scanning below for the demon they feared. Erika surrounded their precious Josie with a protective soft grey shield and carried her a few seconds behind the search party, close enough to swoop in but far enough to retreat to safety. She left the bloodstones behind. They would not help against this creature.

_It was close. The scent of food grew stronger. Poor sight from brightly burned out eyes was no hindrance, it sniffed the air, turning this way and that to gauge the direction of the source. The target smelled familiar, a faint memory of a vanished life tugged at the shreds of its consciousness and made it falter. The unformed memory evaporated and it dragged itself onwards towards the town centre._

Cecil strolled slowly, stopping at the store for something to microwave, a club-hammer and some fresh coffee beans. The hammer was heavy, but it was worth the effort. He liked his coffee finely ground despite the time it took to fill the machine. His old coffee hammer was only good for the French press, this was for espresso.  
He walked towards home, past strangers hurrying with their heads down, past figures who pulled their hoods further over their faces and shimmering creatures he would not allow himself to see. Cecil found time for himself in the darkness. It was an opportunity to let his mind wander safe from everyday interruptions. Tonight he mostly thought about Carlos.  
It mostly made him sad.

Erika saw the streets below, quiet and dark, cooling rapidly. It would be cold tonight. They landed carefully on top of the spire, wrapped wings around themself for warmth, glad of the chunky knit from Josie trapping air. They set off again, swooping closer to the ground, a slow spiral out from the centre, searching.  
 _There!_  
Erika landed behind the limping creature, circled cautiously around and looked. It opened its filthy maw and moaned, pointed at Erika with shaky fingers outstretched. It lurched forwards and fell unconscious in the street. Erika edged closer.  
It was not what they thought. Possibly not harmless, but just a drunk. Erika pulled at the air with their wings and lifted out of sight.

_There was another scent hanging in the air. Everywhere, the stink of fear. It fell, leg caught on the clothing of a figure in the gutter. It turned and sniffed around the human, got near to its precious source of food, opened its mouth and stopped, still as death. The stench was strong around this one. It was spoiled, bad. It would not satisfy the hunger. This poisoned, unmoving brain was an easy meal but a toxic one. The creature clambered up to its feet again, walked over the sleeping, prostrate drunk and lurched onward. There was better prey ahead. It was close and getting closer._

Cecil missed Carlos. He counted the weeks rather than the days since their last conversation when Carlos had materialised at home for _extremely scientific_ reasons. He had seemed a little more intense than usual, like he was trying extra hard to concentrate on Cecil, but smiled and chatted about his desert home. They had dinner together, or rather Cecil had eaten and Carlos had watched, waiting for him to relax on the sofa with a glass of wine.  
Cecil poured a glass for Carlos that time too. Carlos laughed and pretended to try to pick it up, miming disappointment as his hand passed through the glass. Cecil smiled at the memory, and at the memory of what they had done next with hands and voices and eyes.  
Eleven. Cecil had heard nothing more from Carlos for almost three months.

Josie and Erika followed at a safe distance. The creature, at last spied by Erika from a rooftop, limped a determined, slow but steady pace. Erika hugged Josie as she shivered in the cool night. There was no redemption here. No homeless demon or accidentally unsuitable possession to sort out.  
The creature up ahead was forever empty.

_It sped up, the target was approaching. The smell was intoxicating. The creature waved its arms, nodded and shook its head to determine the exact direction to take. Ears locked on to footsteps and a voice, and it turned to face the prey._

Cecil saw the shuffling figure before it noticed his presence. He frowned. It was familiar immediately, dark unruly curls and a strong jaw set with perfect teeth in a grin, looking down like everyone else. Yet somehow it looked wrong.  
“Carlos? Carlos!”  
Cecil called over and the figure’s head raised, looking around with useless eyes.  
“Oh my glowing cloud, it really is you! You’re hurt! Carlos, stay there, I’ll come to you. Don’t move!”  
He ran, dropping his heavy bag a few feet from Carlos’s form, and stopped just out of reach. “Carlos, are you real? Can I…?” Cecil reached out a hand and touched the arm clad in a worn and filthy lab coat. It was solid. “Oh, my love, I missed you so much! I have been so worried! And here you are, back home!” Cecil wrapped his arms around the figure of Carlos, returned to him at last, holding him tight and heaving out a sob.  
Carlos put his arms around Cecil, stood as upright as he could and opened his mouth, showing his perfect teeth in a grimace. Cecil released him and he stumbled back on his damaged ankle, teeth clamping down on empty air.  
“Oh! We better get you to hospital.” Cecil leaned forwards to help Carlos up.

“No!” Josie’s voice rang out. “Step back, Cecil. He’s not who ya think. Not any more.”  
Cecil turned and frowned as Carlos flailed on his back, gravity outsmarting his uncoordinated movements. “Josie! It’s Carlos! You can see it is Carlos, look at his perfect hair and the strong jaw, and despite all that time in the desert he has perfect teeth like… Oh no.”  
Josie pulled Cecil away from Carlos’s body as it knelt and pushed upright to stand.  
“Cecil, honey, there’s nobody home. Carlos is long gone. Ah am so sorry, wish things were different but there's nothing we can do for him.”  
Three shimmering figures surrounded the little group. Josie turned her head to face one. “Oh? Yes Ah suppose, Erika, but it’s a little  _final.”_ She looked at Cecil and took his hands as the being that was once Carlos shambled relentlessly towards them. “Look at me, Cecil, and know that Ah'm telling the truth. He is long gone but there is one thing ya can do for yer Carlos, if ya loved him.”  
Cecil stared deep into Josie’s eyes and his own flared violet for a second. He understood.

Without realising, Cecil let go of Josie’s hand and took the coffee-hammer from the _impressive feathered thing_ that held it up for him.  
It was a good choice. He only had to swing it once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't possibly leave it with that. One more chapter to end with fluff.  
> Or something.


	31. Talk it out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU where pi wants Marcus, Jake and Earl to get intimate.

Earl went back to the kitchen to finish his shift. Marcus and Jake looked at each other. Jake frowned.  
“Marcus, are you okay with this?”  
Marcus shrugged. “Are you?”  
“I don’t know. It’s a little unconventional.”  
“Whatever. It’s a win-win, Jake. I want you, Earl wants you, you get lai—”  
“Both of you, yeah. What if it doesn’t work out?”  
“Heh. What if it does?”  
“We need to talk it out. All of us. But you need to do your speech – the new version, right?”  
“Heh. You forgive me?”  
Jake smiled. “Marcus, I always forgive you.”

Marcus’s speech was as well received as it was brief. He stayed at the party for long enough that people would remember he was there, posed for a photograph with Mhairi, caught Jake’s attention and signalled that he was going upstairs. Jake nodded and returned his attention to the accounts team.  
Mhairi joined them, giggling and towing one of the sales guys in her wake.  
“Hey, Jakey! I wanna word.” Mhairi dropped the sales guy into a chair, took Jake’s arm and unsteadily led him into a corner. The drunk act vanished. “You and Marcus. There’s something going on. You couldn’t drag your eyes off each other tonight! It was kinda _intense._ You two in love? I need to know.”  
“Mhairi, you know Marcus. And I know your job. You may spread it around that Marcus and I have,” Jake leaned in close, _”come_ to an arrangement that may or may not involve sharing an ex-employee.”  
Mhairi laughed. “Oh that is precious. Are any of the rumours I’m paid to start actually true?”  
Jake smiled. “I don’t kiss and tell.” He kissed her cheek and walked away to lurk by the bar and wait for Marcus to call.

Earl finished his shift and helped clear up the kitchen so he could close up as quickly as possible. He went to Marcus’s room and knocked on the door. Marcus let him in.  
“Jake’ll be here later. Wanna talk to you first. There might be some wine… oh, good man.”  
Earl produced a bottle of Chateauneuf-du-Pape from behind his back and three glasses. He poured two and handed one to Marcus. Marcus lounged on the bed, Earl sat on a chair and scowled.  
“Is this where you explain the rules, Marcus? And I tell you to go fu—“  
“Not what I had in mind.” Marcus shook his head. “When you resigned, hm, did you hate me?”  
“I was embarrassed. Marcus, you came on to me so hard I thought… I thought you meant it. I thought you wanted me.”  
“I did, in my own way. I went too far. Shouldn’t’ve done that. ”  
“I couldn’t stand to be in the same room as you, thinking you were laughing at me for falling for your act. And seeing Jake falling for you! Ugh. I didn’t want him to get hurt like I did.”

Marcus had no answer. They drank in silence.  
“What did you think, Earl, when I told you what I wanted? That night you called my bluff?”  
“I thought you were joking. You said things that couldn’t be true.”  
“I said you were beautiful and I wanted to admire you. You are, y'know. Beautiful.”  
“No. I’m not. You’ve seen my scars.”  
Marcus stared at Earl. “How can you say that!”

“Lemme show you what I see when I look at you.” Marcus got up and offered a hand to Earl. Earl stood up unassisted. Marcus took his hand and led him to the wall mirror. He traced the line of the scar on Earl’s face. “I know you got that defending your troop from spiderwolves. You faced down two of them. This scar shows how brave you are, and how loyal. You could have run, heh, you only had to be, y'know, faster than the slowest scout.”  
Earl did not look in the mirror. Marcus unbuttoned Earl’s jacket and pulled it open. He held his hand over a patch of scar tissue on Earl’s abdomen. “This is where you got injured years ago saving a stranger from a fire.” Marcus slipped Earl’s jacket off his shoulders so that it hung from his arms. “And here,” he strummed his thumb over four old parallel lines that ran from Earl’s left shoulder to his right hip, “is where you protected a younger scout from a desert lion with your own body. Earl, every scar has a story and you are beautiful because of them, not in spite of them. Look at me, you fucking hero.”  
Earl raised his eyes and held Marcus’s reflected gaze. Marcus wrapped his arms around Earl’s waist and rested his head against Earl’s shoulder. “What does Jake tell you?”  
Earl closed his eyes. “I don’t let him see.”  
"Heh. He needs to get to know you."

Marcus sighed. "Jake’s in awe of you. I can tell when he’s planning to go to you. He gets all jittery. Heh. It’s _real_ cute. When you call him he panics and hides behind work. If you think it's all one way, you're wrong.”  
Earl frowned. “And you’d share him? With me? Marcus, we were drunk and talking shit.”  
Marcus shrugged. “Why not? We both want him. He wants us both. Why make him choose and risk him turning us both down?”  
“What about you and me? What happens there?”  
“Up to you. We kinda liked each other before I messed up.”  
Earl pulled his jacket back onto his shoulders and turned to face Marcus, scowling. "Wouldn't it bother you? Knowing that I've had your precious Jake bent over that weird coffee table you keep in your office?"  
Marcus laughed. "Is that how it got broken? Heh, Jake told me the security cameras went offline that night." He shrugged. "It doesn't bother me now when Jake arrives late and in a good mood. It's kinda cute. Why should it bother me in the future?"  
Earl sighed, shaking his head. "You think it'll work out? Having me as your third wheel? Because I'm not--"  
"No. Not like that. If you agree, you'll be a third of whatever we are."

Jake felt his phone vibrate at last. He listened to two voices, left his untouched drink on the bar and headed upstairs. He let himself into Marcus's room and stared at Earl, naked and having his chest stroked by Marcus.  
"You two didn't waste any time!"  
"Heh heh, yeah. Must've talked for at least ten minutes before I got Earl's clothes off him."  
"Marcus--"  
"Yeah. Whatever." Marcus leaned over and kissed Earl.  
Earl growled, "you think this is all about you, Jake?"  
Uh, what? No! Uh..."  
"Heh. Show and tell. Earl, I'm gonna point out scars, you're gonna say how they happened. 'Kay?"

Half an hour later, Jake knew where most of Earl's scars came from. He traced fingers gently along Earl's lines and puckers, kissed each one and agreed with Marcus about Earl's beauty. Earl lay face down on the bed and refused to move. He wept silently into the pillows, Jake lying against him on one side, stroking his back, and Marcus on the other.  
Jake took over.  
"Let's go home."

Jake helped Marcus and Earl out of the limo. Earl kissed Marcus, planted his hands on Marcus’s ass and ground against him for the benefit of the security guard who was paid to leak suitable cctv footage onto social media. Marcus unbuttoned Earl’s shirt and leaned in to kiss exposed skin. Jake pretended not to notice them as he fumbled with the main door to give plenty of time for their activity to be caught by the security camera nearby. The door swung open and Jake pulled Marcus and Earl into the spacious hallway.  
As soon as the door closed, Jake held Marcus's head and kissed him, offering soft lips, letting Marcus lead. Marcus stroked his hands down Jake’s back to his hips. Earl wrapped his arms around Marcus's waist from behind and bent his head down to nuzzle at his neck. Jake and Earl moved in closer to Marcus, holding him between them. Jake groaned, Marcus snorted and leered.  
"Better _take_ you two upstairs. Got a couplea things I wanna _do_ ”  
“Marcus! Can you make _anything_ sound filthy?”  
“Heh. You think I’m gonna stop being an asshole? Got a reputation. Gotta _keep it up.”_  
Earl sniggered. Marcus turned his head to kiss him. Jake watched for a few seconds, leaned in. “I really want to _get you both inside_ now. My apartment is right there.”  
Marcus laughed. “But I got a _big one.”_  
Earl and Jake released Marcus and they went upstairs. They tumbled in to Marcus's private rooms. Earl muttered something about needing a shower and left Marcus and Jake alone.  
“Heh. Still worried this ain’t gonna work?”  
Jake grinned.

Earl wandered back wearing too-small sweatpants and a teeshirt and put on some [music](http://youtu.be/BkwbvzOkD_M). “Borrowed these, hope that's okay. Marcus, what do you want to do tonight?"  
Jake reached a hand out and stroked Marcus’s leg. “I want something we're all okay with, even if that's sleep. Marcus, Earl and I know each other's limits pretty well. What about you?"  
“Heh! I want to watch you two do whatever puts that twenty-four-hour smile on Jake's face.”  
“I think I’m okay with that. Earl?”  
“Yeah, weird but fine.”  
“I like the way you kiss me, Jake. Show Earl.”  
“Now?”  
“Uh-huh. Now please.”  
Jake reached around Marcus and pulled Earl towards him. He kissed Earl gently, backing off and shaking his head when Earl used his tongue. Earl stroked Jake’s jaw and kissed him with careful lip movements. He turned to Marcus and kissed him the same way.  
“Mmmhmm yeah. Like that. I like being kissed like that and stroked, but not _there_ " Marcus pointed at his groin. "I get hard but don’t touch.”  
“Okay.” Jake sighed, “Are we allowed to look?”  
Earl raised an eyebrow. Marcus nodded.  
“I might, y'know, want to touch myself.”  
“Are you okay with us watching you?” Jake’s hand paused on Marcus’s knee and squeezed slightly.  
“I guess, whatever.”  
“Okay.”  
“I might not get aroused at all. Or there could be random times when I want to, y’know, join in a bit.”  
“Oh?” Earl grinned.  
Marcus shrugged. “Whatever. There's stuff I won't ever do but we can talk about that when we need to. Sometimes I'll tell you to go fuck somewhere else and come find me when you’re done. It's not that I can't have sex, or hate sex. It can feel kinda nice. It never occurs to me as something I want to do and I don't miss it when I'm not getting any. I never look at you and think _I wanna fuck that._ It's more, y'know, ugh, affectionate. I see you and want to... eh whatever."

Marcus went quiet after using up so many words. Jake resumed slowly stroking up and down Marcus's thigh. Earl settled on Marcus's other side and kissed him again. Jake and Earl stood, each took one of Marcus's hands, pulled him up and led him to his bedroom.  
"Marcus, can I take your clothes off?"  
"Jake, you're not wearing my... Oh you are. I forgot."  
"Very funny, sir." Jake removed the suit jacket and pants, carefully hanging them, and slipped off his tie.  
Earl snorted. "You even call him _sir_ in the bedroom? That's so... uh, surprising coming from you!"  
Marcus frowned. "Boys, I'm not part of the in jokes."  
"Sorry, Marcus. I spend all day barking orders in a kitchen, Jake spends all day doing what you tell him to do. It can be nice to get out of those roles." Earl and Jake undressed Marcus slowly. Marcus frowned for an instant.  
"Earl, are you telling me our Jake's a dom?" Jake sniggered.  
"Earl, you wanna fight me for it or give in now?"  
Marcus frowned until he saw the way Earl and Jake grinned at each other, the way Jake moved at Earl like a stalking cat and Earl backed into a better stance. He dimmed the lights, lounged on the bed and waited.

Jake lunged and Earl caught him. They wrestled for a moment upright. Earl tripped Jake and Jake held on, pulling them both to the floor. Jake laughed and flipped so that he lay on top of Earl.  
"Give in!"  
Earl wriggled under Jake. He freed one of his legs and used it to propel them over so that he lay on top of Jake. Jake had one arm trapped under himself, Earl held the other wrist above his head. With his free hand, Earl unbuttoned Jake's shirt and stroked his bare skin. Earl bent his head down to tease Jake's nipples with tongue and teeth. Jake writhed and moaned at the sensation. Earl let go Jake's arm. Jake grabbed the back of Earl's hair and pulled his head up, kissed him hard then bucked his hips suddenly, pushing Earl off to the side, face-down. Jake rolled on top of Earl, held him with one arm twisted up his back and sat up, straddling his hips.  
"Give in!"  
"No... Aah!"  
"Give in!"  
"Never! Aaah!"  
"Give in!"  
"Okay! You win. I'll do what you say... _sir!_ " Earl snorted out the last word. Jake glanced over at Marcus and giggled.

Jake stood up, yawned and offered a hand to Earl. Earl pulled himself up and rubbed his shoulder.  
"Did I hurt you?"  
"No. You know I play to lose." Earl removed his clothing then finished undressing Jake.  
"Yeah, right. I want... um... look this is really lame but it's been a long day, it's almost two in the morning and I just wanna sleep."  
Marcus laughed and Earl rolled his eyes.  
"Right. Heard it before. No games, but you're gonna go to sleep relaxed."  
Earl picked Jake up and dumped him next to Marcus. "Close your eyes."  
Marcus watched as Earl kissed Jake's lips, stroked and kissed his chest and stomach, took one testicle then the other into his mouth and hummed, making Jake moan and grip the sheets. Marcus took one of Jake's hands and held it, kissing his fingers. Earl licked up the length of Jake's erection and paused.  
"Still just wanna sleep? Want me to stop?"  
"Fuck!"  
"What do you want?"  
"Suck me off. Make me come."  
"Yes, _sir!"_ Earl took the head of Jake's cock into his mouth and wrapped his hand around the base. He knelt between Jake's legs, supported on his other elbow and moved his head and his hand in a slow, gentle rhythm that made Jake arch and sigh. Marcus released Jake's hand. Jake put both hands above his head and gripped the pillows. Marcus put his hand over his own cock and stroked up before wrapping a hand lightly around it. He watched Earl's mouth and hand working on Jake, listened to the beautiful noises Jake made. Marcus shifted to kneel with his knees spread and a hand on the bed in front of him. He groaned quietly, increased the pressure of his grip, sank his head and moved his hand in rhythm with Earl.

Marcus came quickly, sat back and waited for his breathing to return to normal. He turned his head and saw Earl looking up at him. Marcus smiled. Earl closed his eyes, increased his pace for a moment then slowed down to match the pulsing of Jake's orgasm. Jake arched and stiffened, gasping out in pleasure.  
Earl went to the bathroom to rinse his mouth. He returned a few minutes later to see Jake and Marcus whispering, wrapped in each other's arms in the middle of the bed. He sighed, wondered if he should stay or go. Jake and Marcus exchanged a look and separated. Jake patted the bed between them. Earl crawled over Jake, flopped down and put his arms up to allow Jake and Marcus each to lie with their head on Earl's shoulder and his arms around them. Jake stroked Marcus's face.  
"Ready, Marcus?"  
"Mmm yeah. 'S only fair."  
Earl felt two feet hooking around his ankles pulling his own apart and two legs weighing his down, two mouths kissing and nibbling at his lips and neck and nipples, two hands stroking down his stomach, one clasping around the shaft of his rapidly hardening penis and one stroking his stomach and chest. Jake shuffled down and settled by Earl's hips, circled his tongue over the head of his cock and pulled it into his mouth. Earl's world shrank to the present, tingling pleasure building in his groin and almost unbearable intensity of sensation from Marcus's lips and tongue on his body. He came, panting hard, shoulders restrained by Marcus and hips held still by Jake.

Marcus and Jake resumed their positions lying either side of Earl, heads on his shoulders and arms around his waist, drifting into sleep. Marcus woke up once when Earl moved and looked at the two sleeping forms in front of him. He saw Jake's eyes flicker open, reached over to stroke his cheek and smiled. Jake's eyes closed again and he rolled over, fast asleep. Marcus lay back, listening to the two sleeping men and making plans.  
But only for the weekend. 


End file.
